Growing Old With Kitty 3
by lilyjack00
Summary: The final installment in the Growing Old With Kitty trilogy. Lotsa cowboys, romance & adventure with young Matt & Kitty smack dab in the midst of the whole shootin' match. Kitty's fondest wishes come true at last. AU. A world of thanks to my two betas, Glow and Moonstone Maiden, for enduring this needy fic author's endless questions and revisions. xoxo
1. Chapter 1

Come to me, my sweetest friend.  
This is where we start again.  
Come to me, my sweetest friend.  
Can you feel my heart again?

_"Come to Me", Goo Goo Dolls  
Magnetic, c2013_

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 1

"Dream World"

Fluttering wings and morning birdsong startled Kitty from a deep sleep. She'd been dreaming, but in her groggy state, caught between the shadowy, ethereal world she inhabited at night and the reality of consciousness, she couldn't for the life of her recall what. With an arm thrown over her eyes, she sighed dejectedly, wondering if Matt would ever return to Dodge. After being shot in his gun arm, he'd awkwardly mounted his horse and, after eighteen long years together, he'd left her in the middle of Front Street with nary a promise of ever returning. The aching hollow in her chest had grown day after anxious day, night after lonely night, and she'd cried endless bitter tears in the privacy of her own room as she waited for him in vain. Kitty Russell was desperately afraid that she'd lost Matt Dillon for good this time.

Just then she was surprised by a movement in the bed beside her. Her eyes flew open, slowly adjusting to the gray light of dawn permeating the room. Overwhelming relief and utter joy washed over Kitty as she beheld her handsome young husband shifting in his sleep. The white cotton sheet barely covered his well-muscled form as he lay peacefully slumbering in their tiny cabin on the Sweetwater Ranch, completely unaware of her gaze. Overcome with emotion to find him next to her, she nestled her lithe body closer to his, reveling in his warmth, his scent, his smooth skin unblemished by disfiguring scars suffered from years of serving the people of Dodge. It hadn't been a dream. Kitty Russell Dillon was still in Brushy Heap with the love of her life, Matt Dillon, happily living as man and wife.

Propping her head on an elbow, she watched him sleeping peacefully, his face neither creased with worry nor gray prematurely peppering his hair. His curls were thick and dark and unruly, just like they'd been when she'd first met him that fateful rainy day in Dodge, and she couldn't resist reaching up to brush one off his forehead just now. It was heavy and silky, and she always found it a forbidden sensual pleasure to be able to run her fingers through it whenever they were alone. At her gentle touch, he stirred again and instinctively turned his body toward hers, pulling her to him. She sighed at the exquisite sensation, skin-to-skin, nothing between them-not even a badge. She lightly trailed her fingers over his broad shoulder, down his long arm to his well-formed hip and stroked that smooth, smooth expanse until his thick-lashed, blue eyes fluttered open.

"Time to get up, Cowboy," she smiled lightly, but her heart was skipping a beat at his gaze. "We've got to go to work." Her hands slid around to his back, caressing the warm, wholesome, rippling skin, and she was astonished and grateful as always by the absence of old wounds which would come to mark his career as an officer of the law.

Matt Dillon gave her a sleepy half-grin and proceeded to kiss the daylights out of his beautiful young wife. When she finally managed to get a word in edgewise, Kitty cautioned, "Matt, we're running late already. It's almost..."

He firmly cut off any further dissent by effectively sealing her lips with his own. Gradually, he began working his way down her slim neck, even while she weakly protested, "Oh, Matt...we really need to..." A swift intake of breath. "Oh, right there..."

This Matt Dillon had been young and relatively inexperienced when it came to women and the art of love, but he had proven an apt and eager pupil when it came to pleasing Kitty after their marriage. He'd always had a natural talent for kissing, but he'd been delighted to find, with her tender tutelage, that he could send his young bride over the precipice just by worshipping her with his ardent mouth and gentle hands. That's what he was doing right now, leaving no spot untouched, raining kisses on her bare flesh, trailing his lips softly first, then nipping and biting, insistently suckling until she cried out wordlessly. Caressing her with the flat of his palms, the tips of his fingers, stroking, stroking everywhere until she was trembling with desire.

"Now," she gasped. "Please, Matt..." Kitty implored as the gray sky outside their window began to flush scarlet with the coming of the new day.

Teasingly, he murmured against her perspiring skin, "Are you sure? I thought you said we were..."

"Shut up and make love to me, Matt Dillon..." she breathed, her hands helplessly fisting in the tangled sheets.

"It'd be my pleasure, Mrs. Dillon," he replied, voice hoarse with passion as he hovered over her, a lock of that dark, unruly hair falling into his burning gaze.

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Kitty hissed as she accidentally burned her finger, and her half-grown pup Daisy raised and cocked her head questioningly from where she quietly lay in the corner of the kitchen. "Dammit!" Kitty muttered under her breath, hurriedly setting the big wrought iron skillet full of golden brown biscuits on the stovetop while sucking on her stinging knuckle.

"You okay, M-m-miss Kitty?"

Startled by a voice at the door, she turned and smiled ruefully. "I'm fine, Henry." Old habits die hard, she thought. In spite of the fact that she was now "Mrs." the boys all still called her "Miss." She didn't really mind though. "Mrs. Dillon" sounded too formal for her anyway, although the way Matt said it to her in private, it sounded positively scandalous. She gave a wicked little snort at the thought.

"Did you say something, M-miss Kitty?" Henry was removing his hat and hanging it on a peg by the door. Cletus, Lionel and Frank came trooping through behind him.

She answered, "I was just saying that breakfast will be ready in a jiffy. The fried potatoes are almost brown."

Cletus looked surprised as he joined his friends at the table. "Gosh, Miss Kitty. I thought breakfast'd be on the table by now. Usually ever'thing's ready, time we get here."

Lionel rubbed his stomach. "I shore am hungry enough to eat a horse. You make gravy this mornin', Miss Kitty?"

"I'm workin' on it, Lionel," she answered, swiping an escaped curl out of her eyes as she busily stirred flour into a skillet with sausage grease over the stove.

Cletus scratched his freckled nose, asking in concern, "You been feelin' poorly lately, Miss Kitty? It ain't like you t' be late like this." He considered the subject for a moment. "Matter a fact, you been late a lot ever since..."

Frank cuffed Cletus on the back of the head making Cletus protest vehemently.

"Cletus, just be glad we're not still eatin' Freddie's beans and corn pone three times a day. Quit yer bellyachin'," Frank warned.

Henry joined in, "Y-yeah, Cletus. Leave Miss Kitty b-be."

Feelings hurt, Cletus offered, "I wasn't complainin'. I'se just worried about 'er is all."

Frank leaned over and hissed in his friend's ear just as Mr. Blessing came in the door, Matt ducking in right behind him, "Just you wait till you got a purty bride to warm yer bed, and we'll see how early you rise in the mornin'. Now shet up, will ya'?"

Realization dawned on Cletus' young face, followed by a bright coloring of his tanned cheeks. Kitty, who'd overheard the entire exchange, did her best to keep her expression entirely neutral, busying herself stirring milk gravy until it thickened.

Mr. Blessing must've heard as well because he quickly changed the subject with a blustery greeting. "Smells mighty good in here, Kitty."

"Thank you, sir." Giving him a small, grateful smile, she quickly transferred the food to serving bowls, placing them on the table. "There now," she exclaimed brightly, swearing to herself that this would be the absolute _last_ day she would be late on the job. "Everything's ready. Help yourselves."

"Looks delicious as always." Her boss gave her an understanding wink and she sighed in relief.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she studiously avoided Matt's gaze. The memory of her body's reaction to his impassioned overtures that morning was still fresh in her mind, and she felt her own cheeks flush in spite of her best efforts. Oh, that man could make her lose control... She sat beside him as everyone dug in and she tried not to think of Matt's heated kisses on every inch of her skin. Instead she asked mildly, "What are you all going to be up to today?" quickly placing a steaming forkful of biscuit covered with gravy into her mouth.

Matt's eyes twinkled at her in that special way that was meant just for her, but he nonchalantly answered, "Rounding up some young calves today for branding." He helped himself to another biscuit.

Land sakes, Matt could eat more than any man alive.

He took a big bite, asking, "Right, boys?"

"Yep," they all agreed, more intent on filling their bellies than discussing their day's agenda.

"Workin' on dadblame accounts today." Mr. Blessing shook his head in apparent frustration as he helped himself to another spicy sausage patty. "Hellfire, I hate that job." He remembered the lady present, looking up apologetically. "Beggin' yer pardon, child, but I'm a rancher, not a businessman. Never have been one for figgerin'."

A brief pause while she swallowed her coffee then looked him straight in the eye. "I am."

Mr. Blessing, forkful of potatoes hovering mid-air, asked, "Pardon?"

Kitty explained, "I mean, I'm good at figures." She wiped her mouth with her napkin. "Would you like me to take a look for you?"

"Aw, yer just a slip of a girl," he smiled indulgently. "What would you know about balancin' books?"

She bit her lip, giving a little grin. "Oh, you might be surprised at what I can do."

Cletus and Lionel chorused, "Yeah, Boss," while still digging single-mindedly into their eggs.

Matt's brows raised, but he didn't say a word, keeping his eyes studiously on his plate.

Henry offered quietly, "M-miss Kitty can do purty much anything she takes a mind to, B-b-boss."

Mr. Blessing looked around the table at the expectant faces. "Well, li'l gal, let's see what you can do. I'll meet you in my office after breakfast is cleaned up. That okay with you?"

"Yes, Mr. Blessing." She beamed at him, only now realizing that she'd been itching to get her hands back into the business world, even if it was the business of cattle. "I'll do my best, sir."

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tbc


	2. Chapter 2

You and me, we've both got sins  
I don't care about where you've been  
Don't be sad and don't explain  
This is where we start again

_"Come to Me", Goo Goo Dolls  
Magnetic, c2013_

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 2

"Business and Pleasure"

"I wouldn't a believed it if I hadn't seen it myself, Matthew," Leland Blessing stated matter-of-factly. "That li'l gal beats all I ever seen."

Both men were leaning against the weatherworn fence rail in front of the barn, discussing Kitty Russell Dillon's business acumen. Blessing continued, "She made short work a' that figgerin', and then started goin' back in my old ledgers, askin' me lostsa questions 'bout where I buy my supplies, who I sell to..." He removed his hat and scratched his grizzled head. "She says she can save me a passel a' money if I listen to her."

"I bet she could, Boss." Matt crossed his arms and smiled, his chest a little puffed with pride at his savvy wife. "I've not seen a thing yet Kitty couldn't accomplish once she sets her mind to it."

"You're right about that, son," Blessing added thoughtfully. "You are indeed right about that. Well, one thing's for certain, I'm sure enough gonna give her a go at doin' my books from here on out. I ain't never seen nobody with cipherin' smarts the likes a' her." He placed his hat back on his head and gazed decisively at Matt. "We'll see about some of those ideas your new wife has for savin' us money here on the ranch next."

Matt nodded in agreement, eyes twinkling.

"My Aunt Fanny's bloomers!" Leland Blessing exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "That little firebrand was talkin' real estate and..." He crossed his arms. "You ever heard tell of somethin' called stocks?"

Matt pushed his hat back and shook his head.

Blessing's face was perplexed. "Now, I don't mean stock like cattle. She says all the railroads buildin' out west needs money and you get it paid back with interest. I don't know about that. Sounds a little fishy to me."

Matt's eyebrows rose and he gave a self-disparaging chuckle. "I wouldn't know, sir. Like you said, the only stock I'm familiar with are out yonder in the pasture." His opinion that Kitty was the smartest person he'd ever met was now soundly confirmed since her eventful business meeting with Leland Blessing.

"Well, Matthew, I'm gonna head back in and look over some notes Kitty wrote down for me. You'd better go make sure those young yahoos are still brandin'."

Matt stuck his hands in his pockets, shuffling his dusty booted feet. "Sir, you think we could borrow a wagon day after tomorrow? I told Kitty I'd take her on a picnic, and we've invited a few friends." He hurriedly amended, "You're welcome to come, too, you know."

"No, thanks for askin', son, but picnics are for young folks. You take that purty little wife a' yours on a picnic..." Blessing smiled wistfully, thinking of his own sweet wife, lost in a fire so long ago, but still in his heart even now. He looked at Matt with misty eyes. "...and make sure you tell her how much you love her, you hear me?"

Matt nodded earnestly. "Yes, sir, I sure will."

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The happy sound of young girls' delighted squealing and raucous boys' laughter floated on the warm breeze. Holding ruffled parasols aloft against the afternoon sun, Kitty and Celia sat in their billowing green and yellow skirts like colorful prairie flowers on a faded patchwork quilt. White clouds hung so low against the brilliant blue sky, it seemed as though a body could reach right out and touch them, and Kitty had to willfully keep her hand in her lap so as not to foolishly act on the fanciful notion. The merry group of picnickers had eaten their fill of the delicious feast prepared compliments of the culinary talents of the pink-cheeked, raven-haired Holcomb sisters: crispy fried chicken and succulent baked ham, flaky, layered biscuits and fried apple pies. Now Matt and Freddie were contentedly sitting on the creek bank fishing while Kitty and her friend watched Bitsy, Izzy and Livvy, along with unassuming, freckle-faced Ivy Grace Tate and all the Sweetwater boys playing a rowdy game of Blind Man's Bluff a short distance away. Lionel's eyes were covered with a blue bandanna, and he was trying his darndest to catch one of the pretty girls while they ducked his attempts and teased him even more. Kitty's Australian shepherd Daisy was also enjoying herself immensely, darting excitedly and barking amongst the frolicking young people, and Kitty laughed merrily at their antics.

"Look at us, Kitty," Celia chortled, shoving her wire-rimmed spectacles back up on her nose with an index finger. "We're the old married ladies now!"

"Speak for yourself, Celia Fiore." Kitty raised a reproachful brow. "I don't feel old, not one bit!" She chuckled to herself at the very idea. If Celia only knew her red-headed companion had walked out the doors of the Long Branch Saloon one day to find herself half-a-lifetime younger. There were times Kitty still didn't believe it herself. Times when she was afraid she might find her precious hours with a badge-free Matt Dillon snatched away again in an instant. But she just kept reminding herself to live in the moment and count her blessings, however long they may last.

"What time do you want to leave tomorrow to ride into Beaver Township?" Celia asked. She clutched Kitty's arm excitedly. "Hey, let's dash into Harrod's Emporium while we're there! I betcha the next issue of _Western Tales of Blood and Suspense_ will be out! Jumpin' Jehosephat, I can't wait to read it! They always leave off at a blasted cliffhanger and it takes forever to get the next installment."

"After breakfast would be best, Celia." Kitty watched with interest as shy Henry tagged Ivy Grace. It looked as though Ivy Grace had not put up much of a fight and wanted very much to be caught by Henry. "I want to check around Beaver Township for prices on things we use at the ranch. I'm keeping Mr. Blessing's books now, and I've promised I can save him some money. I think we need to shop around and get the best deal for some of the supplies he uses the most."

Beaver Township had a single undertaker, and that was Celia's father Grover Lamb. Celia nodded knowingly, blowing a flyaway brunette curl out of her face. "I'm still traveling into town once a week to do Papa's books while Freddie scouts the news there so he can report it in the _Brushy Heap Bugle._ But I can still tell you where to get the best deals in Beaver Township, Kitty, although I'm not sure we'd be in the market for the same items, if you know what I mean." She hummed a little dirge, waving her finger in time to the music, making Kitty cackle.

"At least you can introduce me to the most reputable businessmen," Kitty replied with an appreciative smile.

"That I can do," she enthusiastically agreed, reaching out a hand for Kitty to shake once firmly. "Some men can be quite shady in their business dealings."

"Don't I know it," Kitty frowned, remembering some of the more unfortunate financial incidents in her lifetime, usually due to an unscrupulous male.

"Say..." Celia's voice rose a notch questioningly. "Speaking of men...how are all those birds and bee type activities working out for you and Matt?" She waggled her brows roguishly at Kitty.

Kitty reached out a gloved hand and gave the dark-haired girl a friendly shove on the shoulder, launching Celia into peals of laughter.

"I'm not certain what Mr. and Mrs. Rubottom did when they got married." Kitty lowered her voice skeptically. "But now we know why there wasn't any fruit produced from that particular union." Kitty gave a firm nod.

Celia fell back on the quilt, laughing and holding her stomach. Kitty lay back beside her friend, sighing heavily. She blocked the sun from her ivory skin with the parasol, always mindful of her unwanted freckles, and squeezed Celia's hand gently. She blissfully murmured, "I'm so happy, Celia."

"Me too," Celia agreed whole-heartedly.

Kitty grinned at Celia while she adjusted the ear-pieces on her spectacles, "Are you still enjoying the 'shenanigans of men' like you told me that day in the dressing room?"

"But, of course, Mrs. Dillon," Celia spoke in a stiff, proper voice until she made herself laugh. Then she laced her fingers in Kitty's and answered seriously. "He's so gentle with me, Kitty. Really, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I didn't have a mother around to tell me about marriage, and poor old well-meaning Mrs. Rubottom bumfuzzled me more than anything."

They both snorted in a most unladylike fashion.

Celia's gray-green eyes searched Kitty's curiously. "What about you and Matt? Are you..."

"Oh, yes, indeed, Mrs. Fiore," Kitty imitated Celia's proper diction and then smiled with a gleam in her eye. Then she sighed, breathing dreamily, "Sometimes I think Matt Dillon will just love me to pieces." Kitty turned on her side to face Celia. "It's the most wonderful feeling in the world."

Celia turned on the quilt as well, resting her head on an elbow. "May I ask you...?" She looked uncertain as whether to dare. "How often...?" Her voice trailed off on a high note.

Kitty whispered in a scandalous tone, "Morning, noon and night!"

"No!" Celia placed a hand over her mouth and squeaked, "I thought it was just us!"

Kitty slowly shook her head and gave a silent smile.

"You see," Celia offered in a stammering voice, "We live right above Freddie's newspaper office, so it's quite convenient...almost too convenient. I thought we were just insatiable...beasts!" Her eyes widened for effect.

"Well, we don't have the same living arrangements as you, but I can assure you..." Kitty glanced around to make sure no one was listening and breathed, "We take advantage of every opportunity."

"Oh, Kitty, we are both wicked!"

She gripped Celia's wrist. "Isn't it wonderful?"

They both dissolved in peals of laughter.

A deep voice boomed, "What's got your funny bone, Sweetpea?" Freddie was towering overhead, and both girls clapped a hand over their mouths. Stifling giggles, Celia and Kitty sat up, demurely smoothing their skirts. Kitty spied Matt approaching closely behind Freddie.

Hands on hips, Matt asked warily, "What are you two up to?"

Kitty tugged her gloves more snugly over her wrists, sniffing, "Wouldn't you like to know?" Then she tilted her eyes up at him coyly.

Both men rolled their eyes at each other as if to say, "Women!" but reached down to gently help their wives to their feet.

"Walk with me, Mrs. Dillon?" Matt held out an arm.

"I'd love to, Mr. Dillon." As they turned toward the stream bank, Kitty looked mischievously over her shoulder at Celia, who was taking her husband's arm for a stroll in the opposite direction. At the last minute, Kitty wagged a warning finger at her friend, as if to say, "Behave yourselves, you insatiable beasts!" Celia read her mind and wrinkled her nose in silent bemusement.

Kitty sighed, happy to be enjoying the company of good friends on a beautiful day. The sound of water trickling over stones accompanied them as Kitty held tightly to Matt's forearm, corded with muscles from working long, hard days on the ranch. She tugged at his hand when they were still within viewing distance of the picnic site. "Let's not go too far, Matt." She explained, "We're chaperoning, remember?"

Frowning a little in disappointment, he pulled her closer, tugging off her white gloves, cradling her hands as he kissed her bared skin. She felt his warm breath on her work scars as he whispered unhappily, "I still hate these blisters, you know."

"I know you do, Cowboy, but you know the alternative," she soothed. "We've got to put food on the table."

He protested, "But you're my wife now, and I'm foreman. I can take care of you."

"I know you can, but honestly, I'd go crazy if I just stayed at the cabin all day. And Mr. Blessing has come to rely on me. Who would cook for you all if I didn't?" She placated him with a gentle hand on his sun-browned cheek.

"I don't know..." he grumbled in frustration.

"Let's just take it one day at a time." Her blue eyes searched his earnestly. "Matt, do you know how happy you've made me? I'd endure blisters and chapped hands and much worse every day of my life just to be with you, you know that?"

She saw in his solemn eyes that he did understand—and that he felt the same way about her. He started to kiss her on the lips, but remembered the young people a short distance away. So Matt Dillon backed his beautiful wife against a cottonwood tree, hidden from view of the rest of the group, cupping her face between his own work worn hands, tasting her sweet lips, breathing her breath, feeling her tremble for him. It never failed to amaze him that such a beautiful creature as Kitty Russell could have come to love a plain cowboy like himself, but he counted his lucky stars that she did.

Kitty's voice was muffled by his unrelenting mouth. "Matt?"

He opened his eyes and realized she'd called his name. "Yes?" he asked between kisses.

"We need to get back..." Her tone was insistent, but her traitorous body pressed against his with instinctive passion, born of her longtime love affair with this man.

"Get back?" He was distracted by the smoothness of her skin on his fingertips, the ripeness of her plump lips, her irresistibly soft, yielding curves melting into his embrace.

"Oh, Matt..." Kitty's voice was low and yearning. "Really, we need to stop now..."

"I love you, honey." He kissed her swollen lips once, twice, thrice...unwilling, unable to stop.

"I love you, too, Cowboy, but we can't be gone long..." Her breath was coming in gasps, and she held tightly to his hands to still his sweet caresses.

Matt kissed her one last time. Leaning over her, he whispered, tickling the soft curls at her ear, "I can't wait to get you home to my bed, sweetheart."

Casting a longing look his way, she tugged her white gloves back on her hands, murmuring, "Neither can I, Cowboy."

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Matt held the reins as the wagon rolled down the rutted main thoroughfare of Brushy Heap, heading for the _Daily_ _Bugle_ office to drop off Celia and Frankie at their home on the second floor. Peering from beneath her ruffled parasol, Kitty spied Sammie Sparrow on the boardwalk out front, anxiously awaiting their arrival, it seemed. Sammie was an illiterate young whelp that Freddie had taken under his wing, vowing to teach the boy to read and write. His parents had never managed to keep their child in school—he'd always skipped out to go hunting or fishing. But Sammie had been so fascinated by Freddie's newspaper press, freckled nose mashed up against the plate glass window of the office watching the machinery work, that Freddie had hired him as part-time help as the business had succeeded. Freddie had an eager pupil and loyal employee, and Sammie got some badly needed schooling in return.

Kitty saw Sammie's dark eyes widen when he spotted their wagon approaching, and the boy came running with flailing arms, hollering, "Mister Fred!"

Matt tugged on the reins as the boy hopped on the side of the wagon, expression agitated.

Freddie quickly asked, "What is it, son?"

"Indians!"

Kitty's heart sank. She remembered the attack on the families when she had first arrived in Brushy Heap, only a few months ago, and there had been no survivors. One of the victims had been the town doctor. Worriedly, she looked at Matt beside her on the wagon bench, and he gently squeezed her gloved hand.

Freddie questioned, "Where did you hear the news, Sammie?"

Breathlessly, the boy answered, "Neighbors 'bout a mile away saw smoke and went to check on 'em. Cabin was burned clear to the ground. Ever'body was dead." His brown eyes were big as saucers.

Freddie finished for him, "And word spreads fast around these parts..." He turned to Celia. "Sweetpea, I want you to stay here, and I'm going to find out what's going on."

Celia began to protest, "Oh, Freddie, I wish you wouldn't..."

"You know I gotta write a story for the paper. That's my job, Celia."

Celia's eyebrows beetled worriedly, but she argued no further.

Matt quickly volunteered, "Freddie, you want me to go with you? What if those hostiles are still out there?"

"Sure, Matt. I'd appreciate that. Kitty, you can stay with Celia in town. You'll be safe here." He climbed out of the wagon and helped his wife down. "I'll run in and get my notepad and pencil, Matt. Be right back."

Kitty watched as Celia followed her husband into the _Bugle_ office, locking her troubled gaze with Kitty over her shoulder. Sammie dogged their heels asking plaintively, "Can I go, Mister Fred? Can I?"

A resounding "No" from Freddie apparently was the boy's answer.

"Awwww..." wailed Sammie. "But I ain't scared!" Kitty heard as they closed the office door behind them.

Matt jumped to the ground and reached up to wrap his hands around Kitty's small waist. When her feet touched the ground, she looked up into his eyes anxiously, clutching his hands. She swallowed hard, but knew better than to argue with his decision to accompany his friend. "You be careful, Matt Dillon," she bravely said instead. She wanted to say more, but her throat was tight and the words refused to come.

Looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, Matt leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. "When have I been anything but careful, honey? I'll be back before you know it."

tbc

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	3. Chapter 3

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 3

"Vigil"

Kitty blankly stared at a single moth fluttering haphazardly round the coal oil lamp resting in the middle of the kitchen table where she and Celia sat, stiff and silent. Nervous small talk long since exhausted, they waited... waited... their hearts squeezing tighter in their chests as each agonizing moment passed, waiting for Matt and Freddie to return. Kitty's fingers were laced tightly, her hands helplessly lying on the red and white checkered cloth while Celia pretended to read a book; instead her eyes kept darting toward the stairs. Their ears strained for the sounds of horses' hooves on the street, booted footsteps on the boardwalk, low, familiar voices drifting through the doorway. Instead, they heard only crickets chirping through the open window and an occasional dog barking, setting their raw nerves even more on edge.

Kitty had become spoiled these long weeks she'd spent with young, carefree Matt Dillon who hadn't been burdened with a U.S. Marshal's badge or its deadly duties. She didn't have to fret about gunfights in the streets, outlaws on the prairie, or ambushes by blood enemies. But here she was again, stomach in knots, waiting for her man to return just like old times. She should have known it would eventually come to this. It was in Matt's nature to help his friends, to defend others, no matter where he was or what the circumstances.

He and Freddie had borrowed guns from neighbors in town because of the potential threat of running into more hostiles. Matt had left his own gun at the cabin since they'd only planned on picnicking that day, and Freddie didn't even own a firearm. They'd stuck the borrowed pistols in their belts and kissed their worried young wives on soft, pale cheeks, then rode off on Mr. Blessing's horses they'd unhitched from the wagon. Young Sammie Sparrow rode behind Freddie as they took him home to his parents, to his very great disappointment and vehement protestations.

Now Kitty silently sat and hoped, even prayed to a higher power than herself that her precious life here with Matt was not about to end so soon after it had begun. It was a dream come true, living an uncomplicated existence with her cowboy-married, happy, and worry-free. She should have known it was too good to last.

Both girls jumped in their seats when the front door banged open, their eyes locking in cautious hope. They stood and breathlessly waited as booted feet mounted the stairs. Freddie appeared first, dirty, smeared with black soot, and Celia threw herself into his arms, choking back a sob. Matt appeared next, wearily removing his hat, his blue eyes troubled.

Kitty gasped when she saw bloodstains on his shirt. "Matt! You're hurt!"

He reached out to her, pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. She sucked in a quick breath, completely taken aback by this public display of emotion. Lifting his head, he explained in a low, rumbling voice, "It's not mine, honey. I'm okay."

Dark-eyed Freddie, large hands stroking his wife's back, solemnly revealed, "Came from a little girl who was hiding in the bushes after her home was raided and burned to the ground."

Horrified, Celia's hand flew to her mouth as Kitty apprehensively asked, "Is she alive?"

Freddie hurried to explain, "Your husband is a hero, Mrs. Dillon. You should be proud. He saved her life from an Apache warrior determined to leave no survivors behind."

Kitty peered up into Matt's face, but she saw no satisfaction or pride in his heroic deed. She saw only dark circles beneath his haunted eyes, his jaw clenched rigidly. She tightly squeezed his hands and wished they were alone so they could talk freely.

Celia straightened her spectacles and asked in a strained voice, "Where is she now?"

Freddie replied, "Left her at an uncle's house in town. Poor little thing. She lost her ma, pa, and two sisters. She said they took an older brother, rode off with him."

Kitty breathed, "He'll be adopted as a warrior..."

"Oh no..." Celia uttered darkly.

Heaving a great sigh, Matt finally spoke, "Unfortunately, you're right." He scrubbed a hand tiredly over his whisker-shadowed face. "Are you ready to go home, Kitty?"

Celia and Freddie both protested, "You can't leave! Stay here. What if there are more hostiles?"

Grimly, Matt answered, "I've got a gun and I know how to use it. We'll be fine."

Kitty realized he needed to be alone. Matt Dillon had always been a paradox-a lawman who hated bloodshed. Killing was against his nature. But sometimes in order to help others, he'd had to resort to deadly force. And Kitty Russell had always been there for him afterward, to listen to him, to whisper comforting words and hold him close in the night. The beautiful, flame-haired saloon owner saw the tender side of Marshal Matt Dillon that no one else ever did.

"I'm ready, Matt." She turned to Celia and took her friend's hands. "We'll be alright, I promise." She smiled and hugged her, then Freddie.

One last time Freddie asked, "Are you sure...?"

"We're sure," they answered in unison, and Matt reached out to grip his friend's hand firmly.

Freddie quietly declared, "I owe you one," and Matt's only response was a silent nod.

Matt was vigilant as he drove the wagon home in the twilight. Kitty asked just a few hushed questions as his eyes scanned their surroundings. She found out the family's name was Holder, and the little girl who'd survived was Francesca. She'd been covered with blood when Matt found her, but apparently it came from her mother's body, which had been riddled with arrows. Matt shot the Apache when he discovered Francesca's hiding place and attempted to kill her with a tomahawk. Matt had cradled the girl in his arms all the way to her uncle's house, thus the bloodstains on his own clothing.

Kitty breathed a sigh of relief when they reached their home at last. Matt unhitched the horses, while she went inside and heated him a wash pan full of water on the stove. He came inside, feet tiredly scuffing across the wooden floor. Groaning, he sat heavily on the bed, and she removed his hat and boots. She pulled the gun from his belt, detecting the telltale odor of spent gunpowder, and laid it carefully on the kitchen table. Wordlessly, she unbuttoned his shirt and helped him slip out of it, unbuckled his pants and pulled them down over his hips and legs, then tugged down his union suit until it hung from his waist. Kitty used a warm, wet cloth bubbling with soapsuds to wipe away the bloodstains from her husband's chest, his arms, his large hands. He closed his eyes wearily as she worked, their breathing the only sound in the room except the trickling of water in the pan. Kitty wrung out the washcloth and rinsed his skin clean, then buffed it with a soft towel. She pulled back the covers as he stepped out of his union suit, and she watched him slide naked with a sigh between the cool, cotton sheets.

Next she brushed out her hair and undressed herself, her skin growing warmer as Matt lay back, intently watching her every move. Raising her arms, the beautiful nightgown Matt had given her on their wedding night skimmed over her body. Kitty blew out the lamp, then crept into bed next to him. His arms instantly enveloped her and he buried his face in her long, red tresses once again. He inhaled deeply, then sighed-as sad and world-weary a sound as Kitty had ever heard. She wrapped her arms tightly around his middle and lay her head on his broad chest. She spoke to him soothingly, comfortingly in low tones. "It's alright, Cowboy."

His voice rumbled in her ear. "Kitty, I..." His troubled voice failed him.

"What is it?" She tilted her head back to face him as she reached up to touch his soft lips with her fingertips. "You can tell me anything, Matt."

"Well, I..." His voice cracked again and he gripped her hand tightly. "I've never killed anybody before..."

Kitty's heart clenched in her chest as she saw her young husband's eyes fill with tears in the light of the moon spilling through the window.

"Oh, Matt..." Her own throat tightened at the torn expression on her lover's face. "I didn't realize. I should have known. You've got every right to be upset." She kissed his cheek and smoothed his hair off his forehead.

"I just hope I don't ever have to do that again," he murmured, and she could see the anguish in his expression.

"I do, too, Cowboy..." she agreed wholeheartedly as her body molded familiarly with his, wishing she could take away his hurt, and praying she could spare him the difficult life her man had led in Dodge. She reiterated earnestly, "I do, too."

tbc

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Author's Note: If you would like to hear the song that helped to inspire me while I was writing this mini-epic, go to youtube and search for "come to me goo goo dolls." Click on the official video because it is sweet, old-fashioned and romantic, just like us M/K shippers.


	4. Chapter 4

_I'll be kind, if you'll be faithful  
You be sweet and I'll be grateful  
Cover me with kisses dear  
Lighten up the atmosphere_

"_Come to Me", Goo Goo Dolls  
Magnetic, c2013  
_

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 4

"Good News & Bad News"

Kitty stood over the hot stove, stirring a skillet full of scrambled eggs. Wiping beads of perspiration from her forehead with a sleeve, she looked over her shoulder just in time to see Matt and the rest of the ranch hands enter the cook shack for breakfast.

Lionel sniffed the air appreciatively, asking, "Almost ready to eat, Miss Kitty? That shore smells—"

Kitty quickly cut him off. "I'm doin' the best I can, Lionel. Go outside and wash up while you're waiting." Her tone was sharper than she'd intended, and tender-hearted Lionel looked hurt. Even Daisy lying in her corner looked up at Kitty with a tilt of her red and white merle head.

Lionel softly uttered, "Yes, ma'am..."

The boys all trooped obediently outside, casting curious backwards glances at her, and Kitty sighed crossly at always having to remind them to clean up before meals.

Matt's deep voice at her elbow startled her. "Honey, I'm goin' on a little trip with Freddie today after breakfast-"

"A trip?" She realized her voice was accusatory, but she'd gotten so used to having Matt around all the time. No endless official trips to Hays City to deliver prisoners, no wandering around the prairie for days on end searching for outlaws_. Where could he be going with Freddie_, she thought as she scraped the steaming eggs into a bowl and dropped them onto the table with a clatter.

"He's riding to Fort Blevins. It's only a day or so away. I'm sorry this is such short notice, Kitty, but he just asked me." Matt tentatively reached out and smoothed his fingertips over the worry lines on her forehead, swept a damp curl from her cheek. "He's investigating those Indian raids, and you and I both know Freddie is a city slicker at heart and doesn't need to be out on the prairie by himself."

To her horror, her eyes suddenly welled with tears and she heard herself saying, "So you're going to leave me here alone?" She was ashamed and she turned her back so he couldn't see her face.

"You won't be alone," he entreated. She felt his warm hands on her shoulders. "I asked Mr. Blessing if I could have a couple of days off to go with Freddie and also if you could stay at the ranch house with him. I won't go unless you're safe, sweetheart."

Kitty, surprised at her own intense reaction, dashed away tears with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what got into me. I've just gotten so used to having my cowboy around." Her teasing voice failed to mask the strain she was feeling.

He turned her around to face him and hugged her, stroking her back soothingly until the boys loped back inside.

Frank kidded, a sly grin beneath his black mustache, "Aw, you two lovebirds, cut it out."

Matt, hugging Kitty even more tightly, shot back, "You're just plain jealous is all." He shot Frank a wicked grin.

The rest of the boys hooted with laughter.

A loud, gruff voice interrupted, "What in Hades is goin' on in here?" Mr. Blessing stepped inside, hung his hat on a peg behind the door and sat down heavily at the table.

Henry hiccupped happily, "F-frank is j-jealous, Boss!"

Mr. Blessing grunted, "Why am I not surprised? Get yer own girl, son! Now let's set down and eat 'fore this good food gits cold."

Everyone seated themselves, digging into the big breakfast Kitty had cooked. She was still overheated from laboring over the stove and didn't have much of an appetite. Stealing glances up at Matt while he ate, she fretted about him being out on the prairie so soon after the recent Apache raids. He was so very young, and he hadn't perfected his draw yet. She wondered what kind of match he'd be for any sort of trouble he encountered out there.

Matt grabbed the platter of sausage, spearing a couple of fat patties. Then he offered it to her, and the greasy scent wafting into her nostrils made her suddenly nauseous. Beads of sweat popped out on her face anew, and she hastily excused herself from the table, scurrying out the back door.

She only made it a few yards before her stomach emptied itself. She felt strong, supportive arms wrap around her waist as she suffered dry heaves for several long moments. Her legs went limp, and she finally leaned back against Matt's chest weakly.

"Are you alright?" he asked uneasily, passing her a clean, cotton handkerchief from his pocket to wipe her mouth.

Raking loose curls from her sweaty forehead she released a shuddering sigh. "I think so."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the table in back of the shack. "Sit down here for a minute, honey."

She willingly let herself be led, feeling ashamed at the state she'd gotten herself worked up into.

He fretted, "Maybe I shouldn't go anywhere today. You're sick."

"Matt, I'm fine, really." She shook her head in bewilderment. "I'm usually not this emotional. I don't know what's gotten into me." She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and he stroked her cheek with a thumb, worry creasing the corners of his blue eyes. "Freddie needs you more," she stated matter-of-factly. "I just need some rest is all." She tilted her eyes up at him coyly. "I think maybe it's because my handsome husband has been keeping me up nights."

He cast his gaze downward and chuckled ruefully, slipping an arm around her waist.

Leaning into his embrace, she added, "Besides, you won't be gone that long."

"Are you sure?" Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Matt speculated, "Maybe he can postpone his trip for a few days."

"No, Matt. It's important that he gets to the bottom of this. Maybe what he finds out can help prevent more families from being killed. You say you're going to the fort?"

"Yeah, he thinks the officers there might know something. Are you sure...?"

"I'm sure, Matt. I'll stay with Mr. Blessing while you're gone. Everything will be fine."

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Kitty sat at Mr. Blessing's large wooden desk, open ledger before her, but her mind wasn't on figures. She was too busy wondering if Matt would return to her from Fort Blevins safely today or tomorrow. She couldn't abide this waiting—she didn't know how she had ever stood it all those years in Dodge City. And she needed Matt more than ever now, if her suspicions were correct. She was startled from her wool gathering by Leland Blessing at the office door.

"He'll be alright, young lady. Mark my words," the grizzled ranch owner stated confidently. "Don't you fret your pretty little head none about Matthew. He knows how to take care of hisself."

Kitty dropped the pencil she'd been worrying between her fingers and sighed, "I know." She gave a ghost of a smile. "But old habits die hard."

Rheumy gray eyes gazed piercingly at her. "You've been feelin' poorly lately, haven't ya', child?"

She looked down and traced a finger over the lines of the ledger. "Well, I..."

"Don't deny it, Kitty. You've been as white as a sheet most mornins- off yer feed."

She pressed her lips together and looked him in the eye. "Can't get anything past you, huh?"

"Nawsir," he answered. "My Juliet felt puny like that ever' mornin' for the longest time."

Kitty's voice was quiet. "She did?"

"Yep." He sauntered over and leaned on the edge of the desk next to her, took her hand in his. "When she was with child."

It took her a moment to find her voice. "I... I just wasn't sure. I've wanted it for so long... And I was so afraid to hope. Afraid I was wrong."

"How long have you suspected?" The old man glanced away, embarrassed by their frank discussion.

"Several weeks now."

"I think you need to trust your own instincts, sweetheart. Women know." His eyes got a faraway look. "My Juliet knew."

Kitty bit her lip thoughtfully. "She did?"

"Yes, she most certainly did." Blessing firmly nodded. "Have you told Matthew?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. I don't know why..."

"But I think this news will make him a very happy man, Kitty."

She gave him a small half-smile. "You think so?"

"Why wouldn't it?" The old man squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"Well,sir, it's a little complicated..." As she sat at Mr. Blessing's polished desk, the room faded away and all those years of loneliness and disappointment in Dodge came rushing back at her, memories of waiting for Matt, waiting for him to decide he wanted her and a family more than he wanted that shiny badge... The ache she'd felt, holding other women's babies in her arms and wishing they were hers... The heartbreak of caring for baby Mary and having to give her up when she'd loved her so dearly. Matt had never understood her need to keep that child. Yes, Kitty had waited very patiently for her time to be happy and have a family of her own, and that time had never come. Not in Dodge City anyway.

But then came the day not that long ago that her young cowboy had proposed to her down by Cottonwood Creek. He'd said then he wanted her to have his babies, hadn't he? Matt was different now—here in this place and this time. The circumstances influencing his life were different. He was happy-not haunted by the overwhelming responsibility of being a public servant. And he had told her he wanted a family. He wanted her. He wanted their baby. She took a deep, cleansing breath. "I think you're right, Mr. Blessing."

"I know I'm right, child." He slapped his knee with finality. "Now why don't you go lie down and rest for a while? You look plumb peaked. You can work on these books when you're feelin' better, alright?"

She felt Daisy's nose nudge her foot from beneath the desk where she'd been lying curled up. Kitty protested, "But..."

"No arguin'. I won't take no for an answer. Come on now..."

He took her elbow and walked her to the door of the front bedroom where she'd been sleeping since Matt had left. Suddenly Mr. Blessing put his big, beefy arms around her in a bear hug and murmured in her ear, "I'm very happy for you, child."

And pulling the door closed behind him, he left her in the peaceful bedroom that had once been Juliet's. Kitty lay back on the soft pillows as Daisy's paws padded in a circle on the rug next to the bed, finally settling down and puffing out a sigh. Reaching down to absently stroke the dog's silky fur, Kitty's thoughts dwelled on Matt-and their baby-until she slowly drifted off to sleep.

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Kitty sat by Matt's side on the wagon bench, her arm linked in his as he held the reins. Matt had been grateful but curious as to the reason why Mr. Blessing insisted that afternoon that Kitty start riding the old wagon instead of her little mare Lucy, but then Kitty'd had the cantankerous old rancher wrapped around her little finger from the start, he thought in wry amusement. Daisy was certainly enjoying the free ride in back. She reared up first on one side of the wagon and then the other, sniffing the air and happily panting.

He and Kitty were heading home at last after a long conversation with Freddie back at the ranch. Gathered around the cook shack table, drinking hot coffee, Freddie and Matt had told her, Mr. Blessing and the boys everything they had learned on their trip to the fort. The two men hadn't gotten past the front gate, unfortunately, but they'd lucked upon a loose-tongued guard who wanted a few extra coins in his pocket. Seems there was a quiet government push to move Indian tribes away from areas heavily settled by whites. The land they were setting aside for them would be called reservations.

Matt had explained, "And the Indians aren't taking to this too well."

Raising his bushy black brows and gesturing expansively, Freddie asked, "How come we haven't heard about this? Shouldn't the public know so they can protect themselves?"

Kitty had swallowed her coffee and thoughtfully intoned, "I'd say that's where you come in, Freddie."

Freddie had agreed, "I don't care if I have to stay up all night long. I'm getting this story out in tomorrow's edition of the _Bugle_."

Henry piped up, "I can h-help, Freddie."

"I'd take you up on it, Henry, but you've got plenty to keep you busy here."

"Naw, you go on and take the boy with ya, Freddie," Mr. Blessing had generously offered. "The rest of us can make do in the meantime. This is important."

"Thanks, B-b-boss!" Henry's eyes had shone with excitement.

"I appreciate it, Boss." Freddie had shaken Blessing's hand and the two exchanged a solemn nod. He'd turned to Henry. "Now let's go, kid. We've gotta go get Sammie, too, because it's gonna take all three of us to get this edition ready. We've gotta lotta work to do."

Now, Matt and Kitty were almost home. Both she and Matt had been extra wary on their ride, watching their surroundings for movement and listening for suspicious sounds. Kitty noticed Matt still had the borrowed gun stuck in his belt and she realized, with a sickening feeling, that he would probably start carrying a gun all the time if this Indian unrest didn't stop. Kitty also felt better with Daisy along for the ride. The little Australian shepherd had proven to be an excellent watchdog in the past, barking whenever someone came anywhere near the cabin, so Kitty thought that Daisy was sure to notice hostiles lurking nearby, or so she hoped.

"I'll unhitch the horse and be right in," Matt said to her as they pulled up in front of the barn. He helped her down from the wagon, his large hands nearly encompassing her small waist as he held her longer than he had to.

"Matt," she sighed, looking up at him through her lashes. "I'm so glad you're home."

Silently he returned her gaze, his eyes telling her exactly how much he had missed her the last couple of days. His hand slid around, insistently caressing the small of her back, an intimate touch that never failed to warm Kitty through and through. She drew a deep breath and added, "Don't be long, Cowboy."

"Oh, I won't," he assured her with a devilish twinkle in his eye that made her stomach flutter.

She headed for the cabin, calling over her shoulder as he led the horse toward the barn, "We have a lot to talk about, Matt Dillon."

Her enigmatic smile made him raise his brows questioningly, but he worked a little faster in anticipation of spending private time with his wife after an absence that had been entirely too long, in his opinion.

In the slanting, late afternoon sunlight of the cabin, Kitty peered nervously at herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Why should she feel so anxious at telling Matt her news? She sighed at her reflection in the mirror. She was an absolute mess. Her hair was escaping its pins as a result of her long nap, but her face was flushed in anticipation of being alone with Matt after two days apart. Quickly she began removing her hairpins and brushing her red curls into submission. She wanted to look nice for him.

_Two whole days_, she thought wryly. Back in Dodge, she'd had to do without Matt for literally weeks at a time. She should be contented that this time that they'd only been separated a couple of days. But after these many happy weeks of being married to him, she'd become accustomed to having him in her bed every single night. She'd missed his kiss, his gentle touch, the warmth of his body lying alongside hers in the dark.

She startled when Matt opened the creaking cabin door and heavy, booted footsteps strode toward her. He removed his hat, tossing it carelessly onto the bedpost. She paused in mid-stroke as he stood behind her shoulder, gazing at her reflection, taking the brush from her hand. He remarked in a low voice, "Did I ever tell you how your hair lights up in the sunlight?" He slowly stroked the brush over her scalp and down the long length of it, making her scalp tingle, smiling a little when he added, "Just like a prairie fire..."

She swallowed hard when he lay the brush down and pulled her hair aside, kissing her tender neck. She could feel his fingers on the buttons of her dress. Her eyes drifted closed as she forgot everything she was going to say to him. She turned her head back to meet his soft lips in a kiss and he murmured against her mouth, "I missed you so much." He slid her dress down her arms, his searching lips trailing over her bare shoulders, the back of her neck. He tugged the garment over her hips and let it puddle in the floor as his mouth planted small, damp kisses down her arm to her wrist, where her pulse raced madly. Her hands crept up involuntarily to tangle in his dark curls as he untied and loosened the delicate pink laces on her corset, the tight, lacy garment joining her dress at their feet.

"Oh, Matt..." she breathed and tried to clear her head. She needed to tell him. "Matt...?"

He placed a long, lingering kiss in the palm of her hand, his expression heated, "Yes, sweetheart..."

Her face was pleading, "I need to tell you something."

Giving a sigh, he sat heavily on the bed, pulling her into his lap. Pushing her hair aside, he distractedly murmured into her ear, "Tell me..." his breath tickling her skin as he untied the drawstring on her chemise.

"Look at me, Matt." She stilled his hands by lacing her fingers in his. "This is important."

"I'm sorry." He appeared abashed and squeezed her hands gently. "I'm listening."

At his undivided attention, suddenly she felt shy. "I'm..." She looked down at his chest and toyed with his shirt button. "What I mean is, I think..."

"What is it, Kitty?" Matt's brows knit in apprehension.

Her secret came out as a soft whisper, and he had to still his breathing to hear it. "I think I'm going to have a baby, Matt." She looked up to see the expression on his face, to judge his reaction. His mouth dropped open a little bit, and he looked, quite frankly, stunned. His jaw worked as though he wished to say something, but didn't know what. Finally, his large hand crept down, warmly enveloping her belly, caressing gently. He finally found his voice, and it cracked in midsentence. "You're gonna have my baby, Kitty?"

She blinked back tears. "I'm gonna have your baby, Matt Dillon. I'm pretty sure of it." She placed her hand atop his. "Are you pleased?"

"I..." Matt's blue eyes widened in wonder and he gave her the gentlest of kisses. "I'm the happiest man in the world, Mrs. Dillon."

Then he laid her back on the pillows, pulling her chemise up to bare her stomach to his gaze. He rubbed her belly again softly, softly, trailing feathery kisses on her skin. Her fingers raked through his curls as the hot, salty drops escaped her eyes and rolled down her temples onto the pillow where she lay.

Matt whispered, "Do you want me to show you how happy you've made me, honey?"

"Show me, Cowboy... " Kitty laughed through her tears of joy. "Show me how much you love me."

tbc

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	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: I have failed to make my usual literary disclaimer thus far—that I am most certainly not an expert on things historical, geographical, medical, or obstetrical. I merely use an approximation of facts as they suit the dramatic purpose of the plot and weave them together with fairy dust and moonbeams. _

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 5

"Growing Distractions"

"Please, Miss K-kitty, let me get that for y-you," Henry warmly offered. She was pumping water from the well in front of the cook house. "Y-you oughtn't be liftin' that heavy bucket."

It had been weeks since Kitty had shared her happy news with everyone, including the Sweetwater Ranch hands. They'd been a mite embarrassed but happy for her at the same time, grinning ear-to-ear after their initial astonishment had subsided.

"Cat got yer tongue? Aren't you young rascals gonna congratulate them?" Mr. Blessing mildly chastised. That had broken the ice, and there were enthusiastic handshakes for Matt, puffed with pride, and hugs for Kitty, gentle as if she were a fragile China cup. Kitty couldn't help but notice a forlorn look in Henry's eyes as the news sank in, but it was fleeting. He sweetly congratulated her along with the rest, although his cheeks flushed profusely at the very implication of Miss Kitty being "in the family way."

Many changes had occurred to Kitty's body since that day. Thankfully, the morning sickness had subsided somewhat, and although her belly was only gently swelled, she'd had to considerably loosen her stays to make room for her growing breasts. She'd even had to let out her dresses to accommodate her increasing bust line.

She'd bitten her lip and smiled when she thought of Matt's vast appreciation for this particular consequence of her pregnancy. He'd always admired her figure, quite openly in fact, even in public where anyone could see his heated glances raking over her, brief but unmistakable. She presumed that was one of the many reasons their "secret" relationship back in Dodge hadn't been much of a secret after all. Matt's intense blue gaze didn't conceal much.

And after the period of morning sickness had passed, and she hadn't felt so awfully tired, Kitty found that she could hardly keep her mind on work anymore. It wasn't that she was worrying about the baby so much, or how they would raise their child. No, Kitty mused in flustered amazement, all she could think about was making love to her handsome young husband. All the time. She worried that the boys or, heaven forbid, Mr. Blessing could detect it in her eyes and read her preoccupied mind, and she was mortified at the very thought.

Yes, Matt appreciated her increasingly voluptuous figure, but the change had an unexpected effect on her as well. Her body became incredibly sensitive—she ached for Matt's touch, his hands smoothing, kneading, exploring, his soft, wet mouth trailing fire over every inch of her trembling flesh. Oh my. And the feelings he aroused with his caresses, his scorching kisses, turned her positively molten until she nearly lost consciousness with the overwhelming sensations exploding within. Her cowboy always wore a very smug, self-satisfied smile at the passionate response he unfailingly managed to kindle in his pretty young wife these days.

Suddenly Kitty remembered that Henry was standing right beside her, waiting for her to answer, and she flushed a little at the salacious thoughts she'd just been entertaining. "Oh, Henry, I've got this. I can manage." She smiled to reassure him.

Henry had been especially protective of Kitty since the announcement of her pregnancy. She didn't know if Mr. Blessing had asked him to keep an eye on her, or if he'd taken up the task on his own accord, but she found he was increasingly turning up at her elbow to carry water or fetch wood for the stove. His kindness warmed her heart but it was entirely unnecessary.

She leaned over to finish pumping water, and her mind fogged over as the motion reminded her of the primal rhythm of Matt's body rocking against hers, and her faced flushed for the second time with young Henry standing right there.

"Are y-you sure, Miss?" He hovered helplessly. "Y-you look..."

She straightened, blowing an errant curl from her face. "I'm sure..." and then her knees buckled and stars fizzled in front of her eyes. Henry caught her in his arms before she fell.

"M-m-miss Kitty! Are you alright? Oh...!" The boy was beside himself with alarm.

She blinked her eyes slowly, breathlessly answering, "I'm okay. I just felt plumb swimmy-headed... Just like Chester used to say... Please just help me to the kitchen, Henry." She reached up, sliding an arm around his neck.

Wrapping his arm firmly around her waist, he carefully led her through the door of the cook shack. "Sit down easy n-n-now, Miss K-kitty. You want me to go get M-matt? Or Boss?"

"No, Henry," she murmured weakly. "Just let me catch my breath." She covered her face with her hands and leaned her elbows on the table. "I'm fine, really."

"F-fine? But, Miss...?"

"No, honest. I think it just comes with the territory, Henry." She toyed with the gold band she wore on her ring finger now as she spoke fondly. "I used to have a friend named Bess, and she had a whole passel of young'uns." Kitty smiled at the happy memory of all the stairstep Ronniger children running and playing outside the house, calling greetings whenever she came for a visit. "According to Bess, a little light-headedness can be expected."

Henry looked doubtful, but Kitty smiled reassuringly. "Don't you worry about me. But you can go fetch that bucket of water out there and bring it in for me."

"Y-yes, Miss," he smiled in relief. "I can do that."

Henry trotted obediently out the door and Kitty sighed, standing up slowly and testing her sea legs. Chuckling to herself, she thought drily_, that's what I get for getting thinking such amorous thoughts in the middle of the day. _In the meantime, she had dinner to cook, but she couldn't help but look forward to spending a little private time with one handsome, talented Mr. Matt Dillon this evening.

tbc

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	6. Chapter 6

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 6

"The Times, They Are a'Changin'"

The little group of friends huddled around the cook shack table, speaking in low tones. The wood fire crackled as Kitty used a dish towel to remove a hot cast iron skillet of golden corn bread from the oven. Setting it on a trivet on the sideboard, she wiped at her damp forehead with the back of one hand, asking thoughtfully, "Freddie, are they willing to pay you enough to make it worth your while? It'd be a big change, from owning your own newspaper—and being your own boss—to working for someone else."

"I don't know, Kitty," Freddie answered uncertainly. "The salary they're offering for me to be a reporter is pretty good. And it'd be a lot less risky venture to work for the _Beaver Township Gazette_ than it is to shoulder the responsibility of running my own business."

When Freddie ran his story about the Indian attacks in the _Brushy Heap Bugle_, questioning government involvement regarding the army forcing the natives onto what was being called "reservations," a move heretofore unheard of, the _Gazette_ had offered him a job as investigative reporter at their own paper.

Rubbing his chin, Matt offered, "I thought you enjoyed running that little newspaper all by yourself, Freddie."

"I do, I really do, Matt. But I've got Celia to think of. I need to be able to provide for her and we want to have a family someday. My little paper might not make it. I don't want to risk that just because I enjoy being my own boss."

Celia, quiet until now, threaded her arm through her husband's and affirmed, "I told Freddie the decision was his. I'll be happy with whatever he wants to do." She regarded him with patient gray-green eyes behind wire-rimmed spectacles.

Kitty had been slicing the cornbread into wedges, but suddenly lay down her knife and placed her hands on her hips. "Have you thought about offering them a deal?"

Matt's eyebrows rose. Kitty was always one step ahead of him when it came to business dealings. She had a head for making money, he was quickly discovering.

"What do you mean?" Freddie looked intrigued. His friend Kitty had never steered him wrong in her advice. He was where he was today—married to the girl of his dreams and writing for his own newspaper—because she had encouraged him... kicked him out of his complacency, quite frankly.

She sat down next to Matt, folding her hands on the table. "You're a wonderful writer, Freddie, with a natural sense of what makes a great newspaper story. You should be more than a reporter at that paper. Maybe you could be part owner. Have a little say-so in what goes on at that operation. I don't know much about newspapers, but I bet you could help run things around there."

Freddie's eyes had slowly widened as Kitty spoke. "Whoa. You really think so?"

She nodded firmly, casting a glance at Celia and Matt. "I know so."

Celia, hesitating only a moment, nodded as well. "You can only try."

Kitty's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Be firm, Freddie. You'll have to sell yourself not only as a writer but as a decision-maker, a businessman."

Matt threw his hands up. "I think you're outnumbered, Freddie. These two have your mind made up for you." He grinned down at Kitty. "I'm coming to find that women know what's best for men anyway."

Kitty arched a playful brow. "You'd better believe it, Mr. Dillon. Now you all can help me set this table for supper. Matt, can you get out the plates?"

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The kitchen was quiet now. Freddie and Celia had gone home after dinner, making optimistic plans for Freddie's next meeting with the editor and owner of the _Gazette_. Kitty stood over a wash pan of hot water, scrubbing dirty pans until they shone again, hopeful thoughts for her young friends filling her mind. Seems they were all looking happily to the future for one reason or another, she mused, glancing down at her gently rounded belly beneath the apron she wore.

Suddenly a small drop of crimson stained the apron. As Kitty stared at it in confusion, another blossom of red joined it. She realized with a start that her nose was bleeding-she could feel the warmth seeping downward over her lips. Quickly grabbing a kitchen towel, she attempted to staunch the flow, but was rapidly overcome with dizziness. Grasping the edge of the table before she toppled over, she lowered herself to the bench, her bloody towel dropping to the floor.

Just then, as she raised her bloodied face and tried to steady herself, she glimpsed Henry opening the cook shack door, an expression of horror spreading over his features. He sped away as quickly as he appeared. She managed to grab her towel again and press it to her nose, laying her head on the table to stop the room from spinning.

The next thing she knew, the door banged open again. It was Matt, his face turning white as he got a look at her, with Henry close on his heels. "Kitty!" he exclaimed. He sat beside her and stroked her hair, his eyes searching her face frantically. "What happened?"

She opened her eyes slowly, afraid the room might still be whirling. "I'm alright, Matt," she murmured, trying to muster a little enthusiasm in her tone for his sake. He looked positively stricken.

"Alright?" he cried in disbelief, taking the towel from her hand so that he could examine her face.

"It's just a nosebleed, Matt. I think it's stopped now."

He dipped the edge of the towel into a bucket of clean water, wiping her face.

Just then Leland Blessing stalked heavily through the still open door, his face panic-stricken, but he remained quiet when he saw Kitty sitting up, apparently unharmed.

Matt questioned her, "Well, what happened, honey?" He looked to Henry, standing anxious and silent in the corner, but the boy only shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't seen what caused it all.

"It's nothing, honest, Matt." Kitty looked at the three of them in turn. "Mr. Blessing, I'm sorry you were bothered. Henry really didn't have to come get you. It's perfectly normal..."

"Normal...?" Matt exclaimed. "Your face was covered in blood and you nearly passed out!"

Mr. Blessing finally found his tongue. "Child, you scared the life outta me." He ran a hand in exasperation over his grizzled hair. "We can't have this."

Kitty patiently offered, "Sometimes women who are expecting children get dizzy."

All three men gawked at her doubtfully.

She continued to explain, "I used to have a friend. A friend who had eighteen children."

Three pairs of eyes widened at the very idea.

She corrected herself, "Well, she gave birth to fifteen. She adopted three more. Triplets..."

Matt looked exasperated. "Kitty, what does this have to do with...?"

"Everything, Matt. Quite naturally, Bess was an expert at child-bearing and she told me all about it over the years. Why, you wouldn't believe some of the..."

She glanced at their faces, suddenly noticing that they were all three starting to turn red at the notion of childbirth and all its various connotations. She cleared her throat self-consciously. "Anyway, nosebleeds are a fairly common symptom of pregnancy. So there."

They all still stared at her aghast.

She tried to remain firm. "Nothing to concern yourselves with."

Leland Blessing finally spoke, this time with gusto. "Young lady, don't you tell me what to concern myself with. We can't have you in here slaving over a hot stove..."

Kitty could see he was fast getting himself worked up. Matt just kept his mouth shut and let his boss talk.

"...having nose bleeds and nearly fainting all by your lonesome!"

His whole face was turning fairly crimson by this point. Matt guessed what was coming. He and his boss had discussed the matter privately a couple of times, but didn't want to rile Kitty with the thought that she was incapable of doing her job. But after this incident he figured the rancher, who loved Kitty more like a daughter than an employee, would finally put his big, booted foot down.

Blessing blustered, "I'm hiring someone to take over the cooking just as soon as I can!"

Kitty's mouth popped open to protest, but Blessing cut her off, "Don't argue with me, little miss."

"But, sir, how on earth will I occupy my time? I need to keep busy..."

"I've got more than enough to keep you busy here in the ranch house. You've been wanting to expand this place, buy some more land? Well, you need to hop to it, gal. You've got a lot of wheelin' and dealin' to do. A ranch doesn't grow by itself, you know. No more hot stoves or heavy water buckets though, you hear me?"

Kitty sighed. She knew that she'd been beaten as she looked at the three determined faces surrounding her. Besides, the thought of wheeling and dealing to make this ranch grow was a very appealing thought, indeed.

tbc

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Author's Note: Since I'm unable to PM the "guest reviewers", I'd like to quickly thank them for their very kind and enthusiastic support of this fic. You people need to get an account so I kin write to ya'! xoxo, lj


	7. Chapter 7

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 7

"Expansion"

Kitty sat with her head bent over the Sweetwater Ranch accounts, brow furrowed as she figured and refigured again. She'd found a large parcel of land adjoining Mr. Blessing's ranch that was for sale, and now she was trying to decide if she could get the owner to come down on his asking price. She was thoughtfully chewing the end of her pencil when her boss's voice at the door of his office startled her from her thoughts.

"Kitty, child, I've got someone for you to meet," the old man addressed her.

She looked up, surprised. They didn't get many visitors out here. She stood to greet the man who strode in behind Blessing while he introduced him, "This here is our new cook, Freeman Jones."

Kitty held out her hand to the tall black man who stood hat in hand at the door. She offered him a welcoming smile. "Mr. Jones..."

He stepped forward and took her hand in return. "Don't nobody call me Mr. Jones, Miz Dillon. Just call me Freeman." He had a broad, handsome face with prominent features, close cropped hair, and an infectious white smile.

She smiled back warmly. The rancher must've told him about her if he already knew her name. She offered with a friendly twinkle in her eye, "Mr. Blessing says you claim to be a pretty good cook."

"Yes, ma'am. I been a cook on cattle drives for many a year since I come out west. I guess you kin say I know my way around a cook stove. Much easier than a campfire, you ask me." Another wide smile. Kitty felt she was going to like this man already.

Just then a boy appeared at the door. He couldn't have been more than thirteen. "Pa?" his quiet voice called.

Freeman gestured to the lanky young man. "Miz Dillon, this here my son, Moses."

"Ma'am..." The boy bobbed his head in polite greeting.

Blessing explained to Kitty, "Moses is going to stay here at the ranch, too. "

Kitty took a step toward the boy. He had close-cropped hair like his father's and chocolate brown skin. His eyes were a striking golden brown, and he looked down shyly at her approach. She held out her hand. "Moses, I'm pleased to meet you."

He extended his hand in return, his eyes traveling over Kitty's unfamiliar features, gazing at her bright copper hair as if he'd never seen the like in all his life. He answered a bit distractedly, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

Freeman Jones interrupted his son's curious gaze by offering, "My boy goes with me everywhere. He's a hard worker and don't cause no trouble. You won't be sorry you took us on, Mr. Blessing. We'll both earn our keep. Miz Dillon, he'll help you take care of chickens and anything else you want him to do. He's a strong boy. Almost a man."

Kitty could almost see Moses' chest swell with pride at his father's praise. She answered, "I'm sure he'll prove to be invaluable around here, Mr. Jones."

"Freeman, Ma'am."

"Freeman, then," she smiled. She glanced at Mr. Blessing, who'd been watching the exchange between the three to gauge Kitty's reaction. He looked relieved that she seemed to approve of his hire. Now, if Freeman Jones could just cook as good as Kitty Russell Dillon, ever'thing would work out fine.

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Kitty's prediction about young Moses' considerable usefulness around the ranch had not simply turned out to be polite flattery. He'd proven himself and more. Because of Kitty's dizzy spells and nosebleeds, both Matt and Leland Blessing refused to let her go round the ranch or stay at the little cabin unattended, to her utmost dismay. She'd tried reasoning, cajoling and finally losing her red-headed temper, all to no avail. With the memory of her pale, blood-stained face fresh in their minds, both men had resolutely folded their arms across their broad chests and refused to give in. She needed to think of her health and welfare as well as the safety of that baby she was carrying, they asserted. When they'd put it like that, she couldn't really refuse, but she pressed her lips into a thin line and pouted about it for good measure anyway.

Although Henry would have given his eye teeth to be her daily companion, he was needed to help Matt and the other cowhands in their regular duties of running a busy ranch. All the hands were especially needed now that Kitty had expanded the acreage considerably when she managed to purchase an adjoining parcel of land for a song due to the death of the owner and his lack of heirs. Blessing had sat in on the meeting with the estate lawyers, and he knew for certain her pretty face and sweet-talking ways got them a more than fair price per acre. She'd even gotten the dead man's herd for dirt cheap. Yep, the Sweetwater Ranch was growing, in more ways than one.

So in order for Kitty to be able to travel safely around the ranch and also to put Matt and Blessing's minds at ease, Moses escorted her pretty much everywhere she went. He was a good hand with the horses, a practiced and cautious buggy driver, and he was always willing to help out whenever he was needed. Yes, Henry was a little green with envy, but Kitty tried to pay her old friend special attention whenever she could. But she thought it ironic that Moses was helping her to regain her freedom, just like in the Bible story, because if it weren't for the young man squiring her about, she never would have been able to negotiate the deals she had. And expanding Leland Blessing's holdings gave her much personal satisfaction of a sort that had been lacking in her life of late.

Fortunately, Freeman Jones had turned out to be an excellent cook, widely experienced in the sort of fare that cowboys loved, doubtless from his many years of heading a chuck wagon out on the trail. He was an easy-going, quiet-spoken man with a ready smile, and the boys took to him in spite of their initial reservations about anyone trying to take Miss Kitty's place. Freeman fed them well and on time, two things which the hard-working crew greatly appreciated. They didn't complain too much since they got to see Miss Kitty at most mealtimes, when she wasn't off doing important business for Boss.

It was at those mealtimes when Mr. Blessing looked around him at his rapidly growing makeshift family that he felt happiest. He could forget the pain and loneliness of his past for a while and lose himself in the joyful memories he was making with these young people gathered around his table. He'd look across at the dazzling little redhead who'd started it all and say a special prayer of thanks for her miraculous presence in his life. Where she'd come from, he didn't rightly know, but he was sure enough glad she was here, hopefully to stay.

tbc

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	8. Chapter 8

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 8

"Waiting"

It was late but not quite suppertime as Matt rode Smoky toward the little cabin he shared with Kitty. He spotted young Moses Jones playing with Daisy in the yard, throwing a stick for her to fetch, running and laughing delightedly at the cattle dog's energetic antics. Matt smiled at the sight of it. He wondered, not for the first time, if he and Kitty would have a son or a daughter.

"Evenin', Moses!" he called.

"Evenin', Mr. Dillon!" The boy ran to greet him with a bright smile, the dog barking at his heels.

Matt gave an embarrassed chuckle. Moses was the only one who'd ever called him Mr. Dillon. Made him feel like an old man. He'd asked Freeman to call him Matt, but Freeman insisted that his son show proper respect to his elder and the foreman of the ranch, so Mr. Dillon it was. Tipping back his hat, he asked, "My wife inside?"

"Yes, sir," Moses answered, squinting into the rays of the setting sun as he petted Daisy's head. "She been workin' hard today. We done gone to town, picked up supplies in the wagon. She bought a buncha new baby chicks. Said I could raise 'em since I proved how I kin take care of chickens good. She said I'm in charge a' all the chickens now. Ain't that somethin'?"

Matt grinned at him. "Kitty relies on you, Moses. You're a hard worker and she's trying to expand this ranch. You're a big part of that."

Moses gave a shy, proud smile. "Thank you kindly, Mr. Dillon, but I do whatever Miz Dillon needs." His expression turned earnest. "She good to me. She treat people fair."

"That she does, Moses." Matt thought, as he often did, how lucky he'd been to find Kitty Russell, to convince her to be his wife. He'd never met anyone quite like her. "Why don't you ride Mrs. Dillon's mare Lucy back to the ranch house? You'll get there in time for supper, and I hear your Pa is cooking steak tonight."

The boy grinned eagerly, "Mmm-mmm...my pa sho' do know how to cook some steak. I see you later, Mr. Dillon. You comin' to eat with us?"

"Not tonight, Moses. I think Mrs. Dillon is tuckered out and we'll just eat here."

"Alright, sir." Moses took hold of Smoky's bridle. "I'll put your horse in the barn and feed him so you kin go see Miz Dillon now. I think she missin' you."

Matt got down off his horse, gratefully handing the reins to Moses. "Thanks, son. But you hurry. You don't wanna miss that steak dinner."

Moses waved over his shoulder as he led Smoky toward the barn. "I won't. I see you in the mornin', bright and early. I get up with the chickens now," he chortled.

Matt waved back, then quietly opened the front door, peering inside the semidarkness of the one-room cabin. What light there was appeared golden as the rays of the setting sun filtered through the drawn window shades. He spotted Kitty, lying on her side on the bed with her back to him, still and quiet, her soft breathing regular. Stopping to silently remove his boots, he crept in sock feet across the creaking floor boards, trying not to wake her. Finally he stood beside the bed. Matt waited, just watching her sleep.

She never failed to take his breath away at times like this. In slumber she looked like what he imagined an angel must. Eyelashes resting against pale, porcelain skin, soft cheeks flushed rosy, copper red hair tumbled from its pins. And even unconscious, her hands touching her swollen belly, holding her child, _their_ child. He had to quickly swallow a lump in his throat, and then he noticed her eyes flutter open, sleepy blue eyes the color of a cloudless prairie sky. Her lips, the shade of ripe peaches on a summer day, curved into a small, welcoming smile as she reached out a hand to him. Matt Dillon was overcome. His wife was such a beauty, his chest ached with love and longing. He knew he'd never love anyone the way he loved Kitty Russell.

"Come lay beside me," she murmured. "I missed you today."

Matt pitched his hat onto the bedpost, eagerly crawling into bed and spooning up behind Kitty, wrapping his long arms around her waist. She turned her head for a kiss, soft and warm and yielding. His hands stroked her growing belly as he always did, and she reached back to thread her fingers through his thick hair. Catching sight of a slim volume lying on the bed in front of her, he asked curiously, "What've you been reading?"

Her fingers travelled down to gently trace the contours of his ear, his temple, his jawline. "_Romeo and Juliet._ Mr. Blessing loaned it to me."

Her soft ministrations raised pleasurable gooseflesh on the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he asked absent-mindedly, "Did you enjoy it? What's it about?"

She turned her head to look him in the eyes. "It's a love story, Matt."

"So I guess you did enjoy it." He added tentatively, "Women like that sorta thing, don't they?"

She rolled her eyes playfully at his remark. "It didn't end happily ever after, Matt, so I don't know if I can honestly say I enjoyed it. That's not quite the right word for it."

"Happily ever after, huh?" He kissed her neck at the spot right beneath her ear that always made her shiver and smiled at her reaction. "The only "happily ever after" I care about is you and me, Mrs. Dillon."

Suddenly she softly mouthed, "Oh!" clutching her belly and becoming very still.

"What is it, honey?" Alarm filled his voice. "Are you okay?"

"Sh! Be still..." Her face froze as she lay there motionless. "There it is again!"

Now he was frantic. "What? Do you want me to go get the midwife?"

"No, Matt, it's fine. I can feel it." She looked back at him, eyes misting over. "I can feel our baby."

Matt's eyes widened in astonishment. "Can I feel it?" He quickly placed his hands on her belly.

"I...I don't think so. It's just like...like a little butterfly inside of me." She placed her hands atop his. "Only it's our baby, Matt."

His expression still remained doubtful. "Is it supposed to do that?"

"Yes!" she laughed, eyes sparkling. "I've always heard about it, but I've never felt it up until now. This is the first time. It's called quickening."

"Quickening? That sounds serious to me." Matt pulled her back against his chest and spoke urgently. "Kitty, we've got to show Moses the way to the Widow Lindy's place. That way when the time comes for you to have the baby, he'll be able to fetch her for us."

Kitty settled back more snugly against her husband, enjoying how they fit together. She murmured, "That's a good idea, Matt."

"I'll have Henry take him there tomorrow morning. You can stay at the ranch house with Boss."

"Calm down, Matt." She rubbed her belly. "I'm not going to have the baby tomorrow. I don't need a midwife just yet."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to be prepared," he remonstrated, his voice sounding a little hurt. "Just in case."

Kitty reached both hands back to rake through those delicious thick curls again, letting the silky locks slip luxuriously through her fingers. He slowly relaxed as her nails traced over his tingling scalp, finally convinced she wasn't about to give birth.

Glancing down, he took the opportunity to enjoy the sight of his pregnant wife's voluptuous curves as her back arched against him and she sighed heavily. His hands began to languorously stroke over her body, and she ached at the contact. Kitty breathed, "Oh, Cowboy, I don't need a midwife, but I do need you."

He murmured into her ear as his caresses worked their magic, "I think I can oblige, Mrs. Dillon. Now tell me exactly what I can do to help."

tbc

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	9. Chapter 9

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 9

"Another Chance"

The grain of the polished wood shone softly as Kitty smoothed her hand over the sides of the cradle, gently testing the rocking motion. She traced the lovingly hand-carved, delicate flowers at the head of the piece of furniture, her eyes burning with unshed tears because she realized Mr. Blessing had intended to lay his own babe in this small bed, many years ago. But it was not to be. Both mother and unborn child had been lost in a terrible fire, the child never given a chance at life.

"I want you to have it," the rancher said firmly, his voice gruff with emotion. He couldn't quite look her in the eye.

Kitty couldn't look in his eyes either. Wordlessly, her arms crept round the old man's rough neck. He patted her back and she heard a small, strangled sound escape from his throat.

She couldn't imagine the pain he'd lived through—losing his beloved young wife Juliet and child at the same time, especially in the cruel manner they'd perished. The anger and loneliness and despair must have been crippling. She wondered if anyone could ever recover from such a blow.

But after all that Leland Blessing had given her—a home and a job when she had none-she could try and provide him some happiness, companionship and, yes, even family of a sort, in his old age. She was getting her second chance with Matt, and Mr. Blessing was getting a second chance for a family with them, she hoped.

Kitty attempted to squeeze him tighter, to comfort him, but her swollen belly, as usual, tended to get in the way of everything nowadays. She looked down at her protruding stomach, sniffing and laughing and swiping at the corner of her eye.

Loudly clearing his throat, Leland Blessing shook his head and chuckled, too.

"Thank you, Mr. Blessing," Kitty said simply. "Thank you so much. It's beautiful."

Mr. Blessing held up his hands, uncomfortable with the praise. He blustered instead, "You just worry about gettin' that little one into this world safe and sound, you hear?" He scrubbed a hand over his whiskery face. "Where's Moses? He needs to load this in the wagon for you. I don't want you liftin' anything."

"He's outside tending his flock, sir." She laughed. "I think he loves spending time with those chickens as much as he enjoys playing with Daisy."

"They are indeed his pride and joy. We're gonna have to start sellin' the eggs in town, the hens are layin' s' many."

She exclaimed enthusiastically, "Oh, I think he'll like that idea. We may have a young entrepreneur in our midst. Those chicks he raised are so tame they'll eat out of his hand."

"Maybe after the baby's born..." Blessing began.

Kitty pleaded, "Oh, you can let him start now, sir. It won't take him long to take the eggs into Brushy Heap. I promise I'll stay right here. Besides, the nosebleeds have nearly stopped."

Blessing's face sobered and he took her hand. "Child, I want you to always have someone right with you from here on out, _comprende_? Your time is not that far off..."

Kitty bit her lip, stilled her own protestations. She knew that her boss' fears were born of a terrible reality, of personal experience.

"I don't care if it's your husband, or me or Moses, but always somebody, you hear me?" Earnestness flooded Leland Blessing's careworn features. "Promise me."

Her answer came softly—simple yet solemn. "Yes...I promise." She could refuse nothing to the old man who'd helped her in her hour of need.

"Good," he stated matter-of-factly, patting her arm. He trusted that the issue was closed. "I hear that Freddie and Celia will be stoppin' in for a visit today. That young man's certainly come up in the world."

Kitty's eyes shone with pride at her friend's accomplishments. "Yes, sir, he sure has."

Blessing proclaimed in disbelief, "From cook at this ranch—and a mighty bad one I might add—to part owner of the _Beaver Township Gazette_. That newspaper has a lot more folks who read it than just his little Bugle did."

"Yes, Mr. Blessing, it does. And Freddie has big plans for getting the paper delivered to all of Rasco County."

"You don't say?" Blessing ran a hand over his gray head, looking pleased. "I'll be dadgum."

"We'll invite them for supper, don't you think, sir? He can tell us all about it."

"You go right ahead and invite them, Kitty, and I'll be there. What's Freeman cookin' tonight?"

"I hear it's country ham, sir." She smiled, because she knew that was Mr. Blessing's favorite.

"Well!" He remarked expansively, patting his belly. "You know I'll be there on time. Hope we have red-eye gravy to go with it and maybe some mashed potatoes."

"I'll check with Freeman and make sure that's on the menu." She gave Leland a little wink and he chuckled happily. "See you at supper?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he proclaimed, jamming his hat on his head and loping bowlegged out the door. "Moses!" he called loudly. "Come help me load up this cradle in the wagon!"

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Kitty watched as Moses pulled the wagon up to the wooden steps Matt had constructed just for her. The simple two-step box enabled her to climb up into a buggy or wagon so much more easily as her ungainly girth had increased. She'd been very appreciative of her husband's thoughtfulness when he surprised her with it one day about six months into her pregnancy, and she'd enthusiastically shown him precisely how grateful she was at noon that day when she'd met him at the cabin for a little private "dinner." Matt had happily discovered how pregnancy could increase Kitty's "appetite", as it were, and he felt like a kid in a candy store at times. Some days at work even, he couldn't stop grinning, and the boys would look at him strangely, wondering what secrets he possessed. He was a gentleman and he'd never tell...

Moses reached out a hand to steady Kitty's ascent into the wagon, the precious cradle safely loaded in back. She never knew when a dizzy spell would hit, and it was better to be safe than sorry. But she would be ever so glad when she'd had this baby and all the males around this place would stop treating her like a blasted, fragile china tea cup. She sat down awkwardly, smoothing her skirts, when she heard Moses ask curiously, "Who dat?"

Shading her eyes, Kitty saw a man riding up on a shaggy sorrel mount who'd seen better days. He wore a top hat and tailcoat over a fancy embroidered waistcoat and was checking the time on a gold watch at the end of a fob.

Kitty waved and called out in greeting, "Judge!"

"Kitty! Kitty Russell Dillon! How are you these days?" hailed Judge Emmett Nation. "Well, I can see how you're doing. Doing your part to increase the population of my county, I see!"

Kitty couldn't help but laugh at the old rascal's remark. She shook her head at him as he rode up alongside and removed his hat. "Yes, Judge."

"You and your young man wasted no time..."

She took on a scandalized tone, "Judge! Why the very idea!" But her eyes sparkled mischievously.

"I am teasing, my dear." He reached for her hand, bowing to brush a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "You look ravishing! Motherhood suits you."

"Oh, Judge, I think you're teasing me again."

"_Au contraire_, not this time." He stroked his gray beard thoughtfully. "You are glowing. I think you must be very happy."

"I am sir," she earnestly acknowledged, her expression beaming. "I've never been happier in my whole life."

"And that is what counts. Ol' Leland is thrilled beyond words with this baby, I'll have you know. You would think it were his own grandchild. He's talked of little else in his letters to me."

Kitty's heart swelled happily in her chest. "Mr. Blessing has been so good to me...to us. I can never repay him for his kindness."

Judge Emmett Nation admonished, "Kitty, dear, I think you have already repaid him more than you realize. You have brought great joy to Leland Blessing's life."

Kitty's expression sobered as she listened.

"My friend has had a hard row to hoe, and there were times when I think he, indeed, did not want to go on living. But now, things are very different, you see."

"He's like family to me," she admitted softly. "The family I never had..."

"The feeling is likewise, my dear. He seems at peace now. You have yourself to thank for that." The old judge patted her hand and looked to her companion who had been sitting patiently, quietly listening. "And who is your young friend here?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners?" She turned to the boy. "Judge, this is Moses Jones, the son of our new cook. Moses works here on the ranch as well. Moses, this is Judge Emmett Nation."

"How 'do," Moses greeted the judge politely, bobbing his head. His expression turned curious. "You a real judge?"

"Pleased to meet you, Moses. And yes, I am a real judge."

"You ever hang anybody?" he asked in wide-eyed wonder.

Kitty choked back a laugh. "Moses! You shouldn't ask the judge such a question!"

"It's quite alright, Kitty." The old man's eyes sparkled and his lips twitched. "I've never hung anybody, son, but I've been closer to the business end of a rope than I would care to admit."

Moses' face screwed up in puzzlement. "Sir?"

Kitty interrupted, "Never mind, Moses. Suffice it to say, Judge Nation is not a hangin' judge." She shot the old man a calculated look.

Emmett Nation quickly cleared his throat, vast amusement evident in his features. "Well, I will let you two be on your way now, if you will only tell me where my friend might be at this hour."

Kitty answered, "He was in the house just a few minutes ago. Does he know you're comin'? He hadn't mentioned a visit to me."

"No," the old man grinned. "It's a complete surprise. I have some business nearby and thought I'd take the opportunity to stop in and have a drink, or perhaps even two, and talk over old times. Old soldiers love to rehash old battles, you see."

Kitty warmly smiled, "I'm glad you're here, Judge. He'll be very happy to see you. Perhaps you'll stay for supper?"

Moses volunteered proudly, "My pa is a good cook!"

The judge fastened his gaze on the boy. "Well, in that case, I think I'll have to take you up on it. I can't pass up an excellent meal!"

"We'll see you at supper then, sir. Moses, let's head to the cabin."

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Kitty and Moses sat on the front stoop of the cabin, enjoying the fine weather and bright sunshine. A gentle breeze blew the prairie grass in waves while white, puffy clouds scudded across the sky. The two companions laughed at Daisy, chasing little yellow butterflies nearby and barking when she could not catch them. Suddenly the dog stopped, alert, noticing a figure mounted on a smoky gray horse in the distance. She raced happily toward it. Matt was headed home.

Kitty sighed and rested her back against the wooden door, placing her hands on her round belly, thinking, _it won't be long now. _Soon she and Matt would have a child. Her heart thrilled at the thought, like it did a hundred times a day. After being with Matt for eighteen years in Dodge, she'd given up hope that this could ever happen. She rubbed her swollen belly again gently to convince herself it was not a dream.

"Well, hello, Cowboy..." she called gaily as he approached.

He doffed his hat and grinned back at her. His smile always made her shiver a little in appreciation. Her young man was so handsome he fairly made her heart ache.

"How 'do, ma'am..." he replied gallantly, a twinkle in his eye.

"I've got something inside I want to show you," she announced.

He arched an eyebrow hopefully, but she cast a wary glance at young Moses and said, "It's not what you think, Mr. Dillon. We have a gift for the baby from Mr. Blessing."

Matt had the decency to look appropriately abashed. "Oh! Yeah, I uh... Let me put Smoky in the barn and I'll be right in."

Moses smiled thoughtfully, "I take him for you, Mr. Dillon. You go 'head. Me and Daisy stay out here."

"Thank you, Moses." Matt nodded.

Kitty reached out her hands for Matt to help stand. "Yes, thank you, Moses. You can ride back in the wagon with us a little later for supper, alright?"

"Yes'm, that sounds good. Mr. Dillon, my pa cookin' us a fine supper tonight."

Kitty dusted off the back of her dress and added, "And Freddie and Celia will be eating with us, too."

Moses added, "Don't forgit the judge."

Kitty placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, we can't forget the judge. That's for certain."

"The judge?" Matt shoved his hat back on his head. "Judge Nation is here?"

The boy informed Matt, "He saw Miz Dillon, and he say you and she di'n waste no time..."

Kitty interrupted, "Moses, you don't have to repeat everything you hear. Please, go tend to the horse and play with Daisy awhile and then we'll head to supper, alright?"

Matt repeated questioningly, "Waste any time...?"

She cut him short. "Never you mind. Come see what Mr. Blessing made."

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Matt and Kitty sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the beautiful cradle Mr. Blessing had given them. Kitty said quietly, "He made it for his child, Matt. But he wants us to have it now. That means a lot to me."

Matt put an arm around her, rubbing her back just like he sometimes did when she complained that it ached. "I know it does, honey. He's been real good to us."

In her hands she held a small baby's gown, smocked and embroidered with delicate leaves and buds, a tiny ribbon tacked to the neckline. It was the very gown she had seen in Mr. Blessing's cedar chest in the ranch house on the first day she met him. That very day, he'd given her a job even though he hadn't known her from Adam, and he'd let her wear his late wife's clothing because all she had to wear was a saloon girl's dress. She'd discovered the gown in the trunk with Juliet Blessing's clothing and had wondered then what had become of the baby. But now she knew.

Mr. Blessing hadn't given her the infant dress face-to-face. Like the pretty party dress he'd once left for her on her bed in the cabin, he'd laid it out carefully on top of the quilt for her while she was away. "I think Juliet probably made this," she murmured as she closely examined the stitching. Matt carefully took the little garment from her, holding the tiny thing awkwardly in his huge hands. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

Then it happened. "Oh!" she exclaimed and held her belly.

"What?" Matt asked, quickly laying the baby's gown on the bed and turning to her. When she didn't answer, he repeated helplessly, "What is it, Kitty? Are you okay? You want Moses to go fetch the Widow Lindy?"

"No..." Her eyes were wide as her hands slid over her abdomen. "Give me your hand," she instructed gently. "No, farther over. Here."

It was Matt's turn to look astonished as he held his warm hands on Kitty's swollen stomach. "I can feel it." His voice became a whisper, "I can feel our baby."

tbc

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	10. Chapter 10

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 10

"Supper with Friends"

Mr. Blessing cajoled, "You all don't hafta leave s' early!" He hurriedly stood and helped Kitty as she awkwardly rose from the bench. Matt hovered by her side as well, supporting her other elbow.

"Thank you kindly, gents, but you know I can get around perfectly well on my own." The weary redhead's protest was admittedly a bit half-hearted.

Matt watched as Kitty smiled but he could see she was visibly starting to wilt. He quickly gave their excuses. "Thanks, Boss, but you and the Judge here have a lotta catchin' up to do, and you don't need us around for that." He placed an arm around his wife's shoulders, his chest squeezing in sympathy as she leaned into him. He added, "Kitty gets awful tired these days."

Celia nodded, the last rays of the sunset reflecting off her wire-rimmed spectacles. "Kitty, you do look peaked. Why don't you head on home and go to bed? We probably won't stay too terribly much longer ourselves."

Kitty hated for the evening to end. There'd been such a large group eating supper that Freeman had moved the kitchen table to join the other table out back of the cookhouse. He'd whipped them up a simple yet delectable meal of ham steak and mashed potatoes with red-eye gravy, buttered biscuits and gooseberry cobbler to relish out in the fresh air and in the company of good friends.

While drinking glasses of good, strong whiskey, Leland Blessing and Emmett Nation had regaled them all with adventurous tales from their young years, fighting alongside General Sam Houston in the Texas Revolution and raising plenty of cane on their off hours. Frank, Cletus, Lionel, Henry and Moses all listened in awe-struck admiration, their young hearts inspired by vivid accounts of heroic battles fought and won. The boys had also been utterly dumbfounded that ol' Boss had once been something of a rounder, regularly getting into high mischief with his old _compadre_ the Judge.

Kitty was forced to reluctantly agree with her dark-haired friend. "Alright, Celia. I'll see you tomorrow when we..." Halting mid-sentence, she leaned over to place her hands on the table for support. Kitty let out a small gasp while Matt patiently rubbed her back.

Everyone froze for an instant. Then expressions of consternation quickly overtook the gathering.

Freddie was the first to find his tongue, "Kitty, are you alright? Please, sit down..."

Matt answered for her as she slowly straightened and gave another tired smile to reassure them. "She says they're contractions and little ones are normal. She's had 'em on and off for weeks now."

Rising from his seat, forehead creased with worry, Henry fretted, "Y-y-you okay now, M-m-miss Kitty? You sure you don't want us t' f-fetch Widda Lindy?"

Kitty exhaled a deep breath she'd been holding. "No, honest, Henry. It's normal."

Leland Blessing's face had grown a little pale beneath his leathery skin. "Yeah, I know you keep sayin' that, child, but it still don't help my nerves none when it happens." He ran his fingers through his graying hair. "They been gettin' more and more frequent."

As the color quickly returned to her own face, Kitty speculated, "I suppose that's because it's gettin' closer to my time. Don't worry, Mr. Blessing. Everything will be fine." She gave him quick kiss on the cheek, which made him smile, and patted his arm.

Raising his whiskey glass, Emmett Nation grinned beneath his bushy gray whiskers, remarking, "Nothing like a little sugar from a pretty girl to soothe a man's nerves, eh, old friend?"

The Judge's attempt at levity worked like a charm when Blessing drawled, "Oh, p'shaw!" and all the boys hooted with laughter.

Throwing his hands in the air, Frank teased, "Hey now, where's our sugar, Miss Kitty?"

She replied playfully while raising one delicate auburn brow, "Come 'ere, you young saddle stiffs," and extended her arms. Kisses were distributed as the boys lined up, even shy Henry, who got two enthusiastic kisses on his soft cheek, so that he blushed clear up to his hairline. Moses, too bashful to offer his cheek for a kiss, instead threw his arms around Kitty's ample waist and hugged her tenderly, golden brown eyes shining.

Planting his hands on his narrow hips, Matt grumbled good-naturedly, "If you boys are finished lovin' on my wife, I'd like to take her home so she can get some rest."

"Ready when you are, Matt." Kitty's eyes were tired, but one corner of her mouth rose in a crooked smile. "Night, everyone, and I'll see you early tomorrow, Celia. We've got a lot to do in Beaver Township."

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Leather reins held in one hand, Matt slipped his arm around Kitty who cozied up at his side, sighing against his chest.

"Tired, sweetheart?" he asked, looking up as the stars popped out one by one against the vast prairie sky. The sight never failed to stir his heart.

"Mm-hmm..." she hummed against his shirt. "...and happy."

Glancing down into her eyes, weary but softly glowing, his heart swelled with love for his young wife. "I'm happy, too, Kitty. You've made me happy."

And he meant it. Kitty somehow made him complete. He'd been missing something these long years without a family, without someone to call his own. When he'd met her, he felt as though his life had fallen into place. He had a purpose at last. A reason to live for. Matt impulsively leaned over and kissed the top of her coppery red head.

A lonely coyote howled in the distance as the night air cooled around them. He pulled Kitty more snugly against his side and his hand slid down to affectionately caress her round belly. Matt couldn't believe that he was about to become a father. A father...the very thought made his head spin. He knew Kitty felt the same way. They'd talked of it at night in their warm bed, lying next to each other in the dark, whispering of their hopes for their unborn child-boy or girl, they'd decided they didn't care which it was, just as long as it was healthy and happy.

He admittedly would be relieved when the child finally arrived. It had been pretty hard on Kitty of late although she hadn't complained much. Granted, she had been a mite moody sometimes. One minute she'd be fine and dandy and the next she'd be crying over something he thought was not worth worrying her pretty little head about.

Like the time she spilled an entire cup of coffee on her dress. She'd dissolved into sobs, hiding her face in her hands because she was ashamed of her reaction. _I'll buy you a new dress, honey_, he'd consoled her, but she'd cried that much harder because she claimed it was her favorite. Matt shook his head at the memory. He knew it had something to do with her being in the family way. Kitty had never been one to get so upset at such a piddling matter before.

He smiled as she nuzzled her head against his chest. Even though she occasionally got upset, Matt had to admit that there was a definite advantage to pregnancy. Kitty had always been a passionate woman, but since she'd been expecting, she'd been pert' near insatiable. Sometimes, Matt confessed ruefully to himself, it was hard to keep up with her. His eyes sparkled down at his little wildcat drifting off to sleep in his arms as he drove the wagon. He speculated whether she might be trying to get in a little nap in so they could make a go of it when they got home. He wouldn't be a bit surprised. But unfortunately he'd had a little too much of Mr. Blessing's fine whiskey this evening after supper. He didn't know if he'd be able to stay awake himself once his head hit the pillow.

But Matt was also worried. He was worried about when the baby came. He knew a lot of women didn't make it through childbirth. That thought made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end to ponder. He wished they had a doctor close by, but they'd lost their local doctor in an Indian attack not long after Kitty had arrived in Brushy Heap. At least they had a midwife, the Widow Lindy, and Moses knew the way to her house. She wasn't so far away that they couldn't go fetch her in less than an hour.

Matt thought he himself might need to start hanging around close by all the time now. Seemed Kitty's spells were happening more and more often. That had to mean the baby might be coming soon. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head again and said a little silent prayer that his beautiful wife would deliver their child safely. He couldn't imagine going having to endure what Mr. Blessing had all those years ago when he'd lost his wife and child in a fire.

Starting when an owl screeched in a nearby tree, Matt clucked at the horse to move a little faster. It was nearly completely dark now, a partial moon the only light. Always mindful of the danger of hostiles of late, Matt kept a wary lookout about them. As their wagon headed for the small cabin they called home, he was unaware as watchful eyes observed them from a distance, waiting patiently...

tbc

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	11. Chapter 11

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 11

"Unexpected Visitors"

Kitty curled her slim fingers around the back of Matt's neck, drawing his face down for a slow, gentle kiss in the starlight while the horse nickered quietly beside them, impatient to be bedded down in his stall for the night. Matt Dillon's warm lips tasted of smoky, woodsy whiskey, and for just a brief moment an image of the Long Branch, quiet and nearly empty after-hours save for the town marshal checking up on the saloon proprietress on his nightly rounds, flickered through Kitty's mind. But then her young husband deepened the kiss, calloused thumbs brushing her cheeks tenderly, fingers tangling in her hair, until all thoughts of the past were quickly forgotten. With each kiss, each caress, her body began thrumming more and more insistently until she made a noise, soft and low in her throat. It was a sound of passion that Matt had become very familiar with these last months of bliss with his wife in their tiny cabin on the prairie. Breathless, they finally, reluctantly broke apart.

Kitty captured Matt's hand and placed it on her chest, over her heart, so that he, too, could feel it wildly beating. "You feel that, Cowboy?"

Dark-lashed eyelids drooping, his full lips turned up in a seductive, whiskey-soaked smile.

She added wonderingly, as if to herself, "You can still do that to me after all this time..."

Matt finally spoke, pulling her closer and kissing the hand that'd pressed his against her heart, "We haven't been together that long, sweetheart. I surely hope you're not sick a' me yet!" His lips turned up in that melting grin of his again.

Realizing she'd said too much, she shook her head and then wound her arms around his neck, breathing, "I won't ever get sick a' you, Matt Dillon."

His voice rose questioningly, a rascally look on his handsome face, "You sure 'bout that?"

She could see his eyes twinkling at her in the dim light. She archly drawled, "Oh... I'm pretty sure." Tiptoeing, she brushed her lips against his cheek, sandpapery with stubble this late in the evening.

Matt rubbed a silky red curl he had slipped from its moorings between his fingers, murmuring, "Go on inside, honey. I'll be in as soon as I get finished unhitching the horse."

Kitty started for the front door, looking over her shoulder, "Don't be long, Cowboy."

"Oh, I won't, Mrs. Dillon. You can count on that..."

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_Muffled footsteps on prairie grass, figures hunker down, out of sight as the young couple parts. Silently they wait in the black night for the time to be right._

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Stumbling a little through the front door, Matt noisily closed it behind him. He stopped, leaning unsteadily back on his heels, and shoved his hat back on his forehead with a thumb and forefinger. Jamming his hands into his pockets, a lazy smile spread across his face at the sight that greeted him.

Kitty sat with her legs folded beneath her on the bed, naked save the sheet she held before her, tucked under her arms. Her copper red hair, shining in the lamplight, tumbled down her bare back. She smiled back at him, sapphire eyes twinkling, and her husky voice was low and musical. "I think you're a little drunk, Cowboy."

"Aww, Kitty honey, I'm not very drunk." He walked exceedingly carefully a few steps closer to the bed, his hungry gaze never leaving her.

"Where's Daisy?" she wondered aloud, winding a single long curl around one finger, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Weaving a bit in place, his blue eyes continued to admire the lovely view on the bed before him, and he answered in a somewhat preoccupied voice, "I left her by the front door. She's our little guard dog, right?"

'Mmm-hmm..." She raised a delicate brow at him. "You sure you're up to this?"

Determinedly tossing his hat on the bedpost, he drawled, "Sweetheart, you might be surprised what I'm up to right about now."

She bit her bottom lip and let her sultry gaze trail over all six feet seven inches of her well-muscled young husband. "Well, why don't you just come over here and show me, handsome?"

Unbuttoning his shirt as he sashayed closer, Matt's smoldering voice rumbled low, "Drop that sheet, Mrs. Dillon, and I will..."

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_Two pairs of feet move noiselessly towards the barn from opposite directions, the moonlight all but vanished as clouds scud silently across the night sky. Closer they creep, their mutual destination the door..._

"Ahhhh!" Two voices, high-pitched with fear, cried out, but they quickly clapped their hands over the other's mouth. Eyes wide as they recognized each other, their hands dropped, knees weak. Both boys suddenly squealed again as a soft bundle of fur attacked them, jumping high, trying to lick their faces. Daisy.

"D-d-daggonit, Moses!" hissed Henry Small as he reached down to pet the dog, trying to calm her. "What in blue blazes are y-you a' doin' here?"

Moses was still breathing hard from fright at bumping unexpectedly into his friend in the middle of the night. "I'se here in case Miz Dillon need me. Her time comin' soon. I been sleepin' in the barn at night."

"Do they know? Does your pa know?"

"My Pa, he know. Miz Dillon, she wouldn't stand for it. So I stay out here real quiet at night. The Dillons, they don't know nuthin'."

Moses suddenly planted his hands on his slim hips. "What you doin' here?"

"S-same thing as you, Moses. Miss K-kitty, she's been worryin' me, what with those spells comin' so often now. She might need someone to go for the Widda' in the middle of the night."

Moses nodded understandingly. "Well, Henry, you kin keep me comp'ny tonight."

"Alright, Moses. I'm ready to bed down in some soft hay now anyways. Bumpin' into you took the starch right outta me." Henry scrubbed his fingers wearily through his blonde hair. "I'm dog-tired."

"Me, too." Moses grinned. "Beat ya' to the loft!" Daisy lit out behind them, right on their heels.

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It was still dark outside. Kitty woke from a deep sleep, Matt spooned behind her. _Pain again. Deeper this time, more intense. _She felt the need to stand up and walk. Extricating herself from Matt's arms, she was able to sit up without waking him. She knew the whiskey and the lovemaking would keep him down for the count for hours longer.

Kitty stood slowly and walked to the wardrobe where she took out a clean cotton nightgown and pulled it over her head. Then she leaned against the wood surface for support as the contraction ran its course. _There, that wasn't so bad._ A little bit longer and stronger than the others, but that was to be expected. She went to sit at the kitchen table for a little while until she felt sleepy and would be able to go back to sleep.

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Something woke Matt from a dreamless sleep. He jerked, opening his eyes. The bed was empty beside him. Alarmed, he looked across the room to see Kitty standing, leaning on the kitchen table for support. She was gasping quietly, a light sheen of sweat covering her face.

"Kitty!" He jumped out of bed and ran to her side. "Don't you want to sit down? Is it time? Is the baby coming?"

"Yes, I think it's time..." she breathed. "But I'm fine."

"Look at you, Kitty! You look exhausted. How long have you been awake?" He looked at the curtains and judged that it was nearly dawn. "Come sit down, honey." He pulled out a chair and helped her ease down slowly.

"A few hours," she admitted.

"A few hours! Why didn't you wake me?"

"Matt, these things can take hours and hours. And it was the middle of the night. I didn't want anyone to go haring off after the poor midwife at midnight and then all she could do was just sit beside me. Didn't make any sense. We can send Moses when it gets light."

"Kitty, have you been sufferin' all by yourself while I was sleepin'?" he lamented. "You shoulda' woke me, honey!"

"Matt, you were tired." She rationalized, "Besides, there wasn't anything you coulda' done."

"Well, there is now. I'm goin' out to the barn and saddle my horse so I can go to the ranch and send Moses for the midwife right now." He hastily strode for the door.

"Matt! Wait!"

"No, Kitty, I will not. I won't wait a minute longer..."

"Cowboy, I just meant you might wanna put on some pants first."

"Oh. Yeah." Matt grabbed his pants from the floor beside the bed where he'd abandoned them the night before. Kitty stood again and began to restlessly pace.

As he struggled with his jeans, Matt pleaded, "Kitty, honey, why don't you get back in bed?"

"I can't. I feel like walking, Matt. I don't know why." She rubbed her hands over her cotton-swathed belly.

"Well, I promise I won't be gone long. I'll ride straight to the ranch and straight back here. I won't be gone a minute longer than I have to." He hurriedly buttoned his shirt, and his face suddenly took on an expression of panic. "You won't have the baby while I'm gone, will you?"

She gave a weary chuckle. "No, Matt. I won't have the baby while you're gone."

He looked relieved. "Good." Matt kissed her soundly on the lips, jammed his hat onto his head, and declared, "I'll see you again sooner than you think."

Matt took one step outside and was greeted by a volley of arrows piercing the planks of the door around him. Hastily, he sprang back inside, eyes wide. "Indians!" he hoarsely cried.

Kitty was looking woefully at the floor, a puddle beneath her. "And my water just broke, Matt. This baby is coming sooner than I thought."

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tbc


	12. Chapter 12

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 12

"Stand & Fight"

Henry Small sat up, blue eyes wide, hay clinging haphazardly to his clothing and hair. "Wh-what was that?" Something had woken him, but he wasn't sure what. Suddenly he spotted Daisy standing below at the closed barn door, hackles raised, growling low in her throat. Henry reached beside him, urgently shaking his young companion Moses. "Wake up!" he hissed in the gray light of near-dawn. "S-somethin's out there!"

Moses scrubbed sleepily at his eyes and scratched his soft, woolly head. He yawned, "Let's go see." The boy stood, pulling a pistol from his pants pocket that was nearly too big for his hand.

Henry's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Where in t-t-tarnation you git that?"

Moses screwed up his mouth at his friend. "You think my Pa let me run around all over the countryside at night without a gun? He di'n raise no fool. 'Sides, how am I s'posed to protect Miss Kitty on her errands without no gun?" Then he looked at Henry expectantly. "Where your gun?"

Henry reached under his jacket and pulled it out of the back of his trouser waistband, checking the cylinder to see that it was fully loaded. After Henry had recovered from Buford Hicks' attack, Mr. Blessing had given him a gun and taught him how to use it. Henry wasn't an expert now by any means, but he could shoot pretty straight and hit what he was aiming for. It made him feel much better, especially when he occasionally escorted Miss Kitty. He liked to feel that he could keep her safe. Now he realized that she'd been in pretty safe hands with Moses as well.

"Let's g-go," he whispered resolutely as he shoved the gun back in his waistband and headed stealthily down the hayloft ladder.

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Matt crouched by the front window, shotgun gingerly nudging the curtains aside. He peered out into the dim light, spotting nothing suspicious. There'd been no signs of life since the volley of arrows that had violently greeted his earlier attempt to set foot outside the cabin door. He'd finally convinced Kitty to lie down in bed, safely out of view of any windows in case the hostiles changed their minds and decided to renew their attack. Matt hoped they were gone, but there was no telling at this point.

Suddenly, there was a quiet pecking at the back window. Matt and Kitty's eyes met, unnerved by the sound. Matt crawled across the floor to the window, carefully aiming his shotgun. Kitty awkwardly arose from the bed and jerked the curtains back. They were startled to recognize two familiar faces peering back at them.

The boys' eyes were wide with fright at being faced with the business end of Matt's shotgun. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot! It's just us!" they whispered hoarsely.

Matt blew out a breath, lowering the barrel. Hastily he opened the window. "Get in here!" he commanded somewhat gruffly.

The first to jump through was a fluffy, four-legged creature. Daisy scurried to join Kitty as she lowered herself back on the bed with a small, weary sigh. Hurriedly, Moses and Henry scrambled through the window frame.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Matt exclaimed, raking his hands through his tousled hair as the boys sat side by side against the log cabin wall.

"W-w-well, you s-see..."

"What he means is, uh, Mr. Dillon, sir..."

The two boys looked at each other helplessly. Moses finally found his tongue. "I think you need our help, Mr. Dillon."

Henry confirmed, "There's a m-mess of Indians out in those trees y-yonder." He gestured toward the front of the cabin. "We saw 'em from the h-h-hayloft."

Matt's eyebrows rose toward his hairline. "Hayloft?"

Moses nodded his head. "You'd be s'prised what a body can see from up there. Then we snuck down and around and come in the back." He smiled beatifically. "But you saw dat part."

Matt rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips, but Kitty smiled patiently at her young friends. She gently inquired, "Boys, what on earth are you doing here at this hour?"

Henry began to blush, caught like a rat in a trap. "Miss Kitty, I...I...I thought you might n-n-need me..."

At that moment, Kitty's face contorted in pain and she bent over double in the bed, groaning softly.

Both boys' mouths dropped open in astonished horror, their eyes wide with fright. They looked at Matt, who shook his head grimly in confirmation. "It's time, boys. We got us a baby comin'."

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Straightening her spectacles, Celia checked the gold timepiece hanging from a chain around her neck for the dozenth time as she sat in her kitchen waiting for Kitty and Moses. Kitty was not usually this late when they went on their weekly trips together to Beaver Township on business. Celia's green-gray eyes darkened with worry as the minutes ticked by. It _was_ getting awfully close to Kitty's time after all. Should she go check on her? Yes, that's just what she would do. Freddie was already at work at the _Beaver Township Gazette_, so she'd just go hire a buggy and ride out to the cabin, make sure Kitty was okay. She'd probably just overslept, that's all. Kitty had been plumb worn out the night before. Celia grabbed her reticule and parasol and headed out the door towards the stable. Celia was sure she was worrying over nothing, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

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Matt sternly ordered, "Henry, cover that window! Break the glass! Moses, you take that one!" His heart hammered like a drum in his chest. He didn't know how many Indians were out there, and he only had two green boys to help him defend his wife and unborn child. He broke out the window closest to Kitty, where he'd spied a brown-skinned native creeping toward the house. Matt aimed and fired. The man went down with a howl. The sound seared Matt's ears. This was only the second killing he'd ever done in his life and it didn't sit well with him. But he'd do what he must to keep them all alive. His eyes darted to Kitty, digging in the bureau for extra shotgun shells and bullets for the pistols. "Honey, I'll get that! Get back in bed. You're in no condition—"

"I'll have you know I'm not helpless, Matthew Dillon." She sat back against the pillows, spilling the ammunition out on the covers. She had found Matt's Colt revolver in the drawer as well, and hastily opened the cylinder. Her forehead glistened with sweat, but she had a steely look in her eye as she feverishly worked. "Here," she said as she offered him the gun, newly loaded with bullets.

Matt nodded in appreciation, keeping his eyes on their surroundings, but wondering all the while what other little things he didn't know about his wife, like how quickly she could load a gun.

Moses' pistol fired. "I got 'im!" the boy cried. "He's runnin' away!"

Henry fired, too, toward the tree line. He said nothing, but fired again, the set of his mouth grim and determined.

Matt suddenly saw what Henry was staring at, and he swallowed hard, firing his shotgun in the direction of the trees as well. Matt hurriedly handed off his shotgun to Kitty for reloading and aimed his Colt out the window, hoping against hope they would all survive this day.

tbc

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	13. Chapter 13

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 13

"Soldiers Ride"

Celia Fiore breathlessly burst into the cook shack, drawn by the aroma of frying bacon and eggs when she'd been unable to locate a single soul in the ranch house. Leland Blessing and Emmett Nation were chatting at the table, sipping cups of steaming hot, strong coffee while Freeman cooked at the stove nearby. All three men stopped to stare at the wild-eyed young woman who appeared at their door, dark curls straggling from its formerly neat updo. She gasped, "Mr. Blessing, you gotta help! I just came from Kitty's place. There's shootin' goin' on, and plenty of it!"

Leland jumped up, nearly knocking over his enameled coffee cup. "Shootin'? Who was it? How many?"

"Mr. Blessing, I'm sorry, I couldn't tell!" Celia wailed, wringing her hands helplessly. "I couldn't get close enough to even see who it was doin' the shootin', but there were shots bein' fired and I hightailed it here quick as I could to get help!"

Blessing started to brush past her and placed a reassuring hand on her arm, "You did the right thing, child. You stay here at the house and lock the doors. Emmett, you come with me."

Freeman Jones urgently spoke up, "Sir, I'm a'comin with you, too. My boy, he with Miz Dillon right now."

Blessing nodded quickly. "Alrighty then. Let's go."

The three men strode out front to the iron bell where Blessing rang it with all his might. Within seconds Frank, Cletus and Lionel had scrambled out of the bunkhouse, stuffing shirts in waistbands, buckling belts, and straightening hats.

Blessing demanded, "Where the hell's Henry?"

With a doleful shrug of his shoulders, Cletus admitted, "We don't rightly know, Boss."

"Well, we ain't got time for this. There's shots bein' fired at Matt and Kitty's right now. Time's a wastin'. Frank, Lionel, you come with me to the house and we'll round up guns and ammunition. Emmett, you go with Cletus and Freeman to the barn and saddle up the horses."

The boys' faces paled, both at the thought of their friends in danger and the daunting concept of going into battle. But they squared their shoulders, hitched up their britches and hurried after the older men to prepare.

Ten minutes later, they all met in front of the barn to distribute ammunition and arms. Blessing groused to his old army comrade as they mounted up, "Emmett, you gonna ride that old thing?"

Judge Nation, jamming his Colt revolver under his belt as he patted the neck of his shaggy, faithful steed Horatio, offered, "He may be old, but he has spirit, Leland. He just may surprise you."

Leland Blessing, holding his rifle aloft, led the charge, "Come on, boys! I don't know who we'll find, but I'm ready to send 'em all to hell! Let's ride!" Six men, generations apart in age, thundered across the prairie in a choking cloud of dust, grim expressions darkening their features, the fire of determination burning their bellies.

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Matt used his shotgun to break out more of the window glass so he could get a better aim at the hostiles coming at them, at least a dozen Apaches, from what he could see. He glanced back at Kitty, still reloading his pistol, sweat dripping from her temples at the effort. Then he caught sight of a tall, powerful brave making a move toward the corner of the barn, and Matt quickly took aim and fired. He released his breath when the Indian went down.

Henry shot once, twice at another. "G-got 'im!" the boy grimly remarked under his breath.

Moses squawked loudly and fell back. Kitty cried out and rose to go to him.

Matt ordered, "Get back in that bed!"

Moses, although shaken and wide-eyed, hurried to reassure her, "I'm okay, I'm okay, Miz Dillon!" He scrambled across the floor to retrieve his hat, an arrow pierced clean through it. He swallowed hard. "Too close for comfort..." He returned to his station at the window, hunkering lower this time.

Several arrows had managed to pass through the windows during the attack, but no one had been hurt, and Matt was hoping the Indians would eventually give up and go away. So far, no such luck.

Henry was fumbling in his pockets, reloading his gun. He didn't notice the dark-skinned attacker creeping closer, edging around the corner of the cabin, tomahawk raised in his powerful grip. Henry clicked the cylinder in place, spun it round, never seeing the hand and its deadly, sharp weapon raised above his head. A shot rang out. A mortal cry. A man fell dead.

Everyone quickly spun to face the source of the gunshot. Kitty sat in the bed, holding Matt's Colt that she'd just managed to reload. She'd shot Henry's attacker and was still gripping the gun, her hands shaking. Her voice trembled, too, as she asked, "You okay, Henry?"

His voice was a raspy murmur, "Y-y-y-yes, Miss Kitty."

Suddenly the cabin door burst open with a blood-curdling cry. An Apache warrior brandishing a spear and tomahawk leapt through, but Matt scrambled into position and shot him dead center in the chest. Matt hastily shoved the body outside while Henry slammed the door closed. Moses slid the kitchen table across the floor to serve as a barricade.

Just then they heard Kitty cry out as she was overwhelmed by labor pains. Matt and the boys' eyes met in undisguised apprehension at what was to become of Kitty and the unborn child. But then the sound of the terrifying Apache war whoops split the air again, and the three makeshift Indian fighters scrambled to the windows to continue firing.

Dragging his shirt sleeve across his sweat-soaked brow, Matt glanced down at his remaining ammunition. He knew that it was not going to last much longer. His heart squeezed in his chest thinking that he might die here today with his sweet young wife and child and two innocent boys.

Then Matt heard a sound, like a faraway rainstorm. It rumbled closer until he spotted a distinct cloud on the horizon past the barrel of his smoking shotgun. He soon realized it was a dust cloud and that it was the thunder of hooves he was hearing. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he felt hope growing inside his belly, small and quiet, but it was there all the same, unmistakable.

Finally, the riders were close enough that he could see old Boss in the lead, and the Judge right behind him, riding hell for leather, burning the breeze. The hope in Matt's belly had pushed up into his throat, making it hard for him to breathe. He saw that Mr. Blessing and the boys were all armed to the teeth, it looked like. They tore through on their horses, hooves pounding the hard-packed earth, aiming their guns and picking off Apache warriors right and left. Matt, Moses, and Henry looked at each other in utter amazement and cheered out loud, then started firing again to help their _compadres_ to finish the job. The Apaches, outgunned and outmaneuvered, scattered and retreated.

Blessing, quickly dismounting from his horse, shouted to his friend the Judge, "Emmett, you take the boys and ride back through those trees! Make sure those Injuns hightailed it far away from here. Freeman, come with me and we'll check to see if everyone in the cabin is alright."

"Will do, Leland!" The Judge checked to see if he had six beans in the wheel, spinning the cylinder and clicking it back into place. "Come on, men! Let's make sure the rest of those hostiles are headed back home with their tails twixt their legs!" He spat resolutely over his shoulder before they galloped away.

Inside the cabin, Henry dragged the table away from the door and Moses threw himself into his Pa's arms as soon as he walked inside. Blessing gave Henry a quick bear hug, tousling his blond hair, but his eyes were on the bed where Matt sat beside Kitty, holding her hand, talking soft and low. He sidled quietly next to Matt and caught sight of her face, perspiring and pinched with pain, eyes circled dark with weariness. His chest tightened and he had to swallow a lump in his throat. "Oh Kitty, child, we've got to send for the Widow Lindy right away. Henry, can you head out right now?"

"Y-y-yes, sir, right away!" Henry nodded.

"You need to saddle one of Matthew's horses. Mine's winded after that long, hard ride."

"I'll h-hurry, B-boss. M-miss Kitty, I'll be b-back as fast as I c-can." Henry grabbed his hat from where it lay on the table. "I p-promise."

Kitty's voice was hoarse with pain and fatigue, but she smiled at him. "I know you will, Henry."

Freeman Jones volunteered, "Moses and me, we'll help you get saddled quick. Come on, son." The three left, looking anxiously over their shoulders at the expectant young woman lying in the bed.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Blessing asked, "Kitty...how long? How long have you had the pains?"

She answered sheepishly, "Since last night, but I didn't think we needed to go and get the midwife in the middle of the night. It was too early."

Matt interjected, stroking her hand comfortingly, "Kitty, that's all water under the bridge. You're gonna be fine. Henry's gone to get the Widow now."

She shook her head. "Matt, I don't know if she'll get here in time. My pains are comin' awful close together now." Her gaze bore straight into his eyes. "You may have to deliver this baby."

He swallowed hard and his voice rose an octave. "Me?"

Kitty squeezed his hand back and rushed to reassure him. "Matt, I've helped deliver babies before, lots of times. It's not hard, honest." At his stunned look of disbelief she continued, "Why, you're a cowboy! Haven't you helped with cows or horses while they're having babies?"

Matt's eyebrows were reaching toward his hairline. "Yeah, but.." He suddenly looked behind him. "But... Boss?"

Blessing said, "Don't look at me, son. Kitty's your wife and I'm pretty sure she'll want you to help her, not me." He placed an understanding hand on Matt's shoulder. "Listen, we've got to get ready for this baby. You got clean towels around here?"

Matt answered numbly, "In that cupboard over there."

"I'll get them out for you. Clean sheets there, too?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll get those out, too."

Matt just sat still holding on tight to Kitty's hand, looking into her eyes a bit unbelieving.

Blessing's voice was muffled as he dug in the cupboard for towels and sheets. "Now I'm goin' outside to draw you plenty a' clean water outta the well and I'll keep it comin' for as long as you need it. But like Kitty says, the Widow might not make it in time and she needs you to help her have this baby. You've seen enough calves born and it ain't no different. You'll be alright, son. Now get a washpan and cloth and wipe her face. She's a burnin' up, cain't ya see?"

Matt took a cleansing breath as he gazed into the trusting eyes of his beautiful, brave wife. He nodded wordlessly, more to himself than anyone else, and decisively rose, squaring his shoulders, heading for the washpan. Kitty was going to have their child, and she sure enough needed his help.

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_The pain rolls over me in torturous waves. I pray for it to end but it always comes back to crush me again, sucking the breath right from my lungs. Please, Matt, where is Doc? He knows what to do._

_Matt soothes me in low tones, wiping a wet cloth over my perspiring forehead, "Kitty, you know the doctor was killed months ago. The midwife is on her way. But I'm here to help you. It'll be all right, sweetheart."_

_Dammit, Matt Dillon, this is all your fault! You did this to me! I growl and throw a pillow at him but he dodges it easily._

"_I know, honey, I'm sorry, I really am. Just push for me again. Please, just push." _

_Why is he being so nice to me when I am throwing things at him? I *am* pushing, I say, like it should be pretty obvious to him, and I feel like I am splitting right in two, dammit to hell. When will this be over? _

_Matt says, "Soon" but I don't believe him. I have been hurting like this for two forevers. _

_His face is covered in stubble because he hasn't had time to shave. Suddenly he crows, "I can see the baby's head, sweetheart! Push some more!" _

_But I am so awful tired, I don't think I can. _

"_Yes, you can, honey. Yes, you can. I can see our baby, honey. Push again!" _

_And I feel his strong, capable hands on my thighs and he looks up into my eyes with such love and joy and tenderness, I somehow find the strength inside me to push again, to bring our baby into the world. _

_Then I hear Matt shout with glee. He tells me he is cutting the cord, rinsing the child clean in a wash basin of warm water as it cries weakly in protest. My heart aches at the pitiful, beautiful sound. I'm so exhausted I can't move and I just long to hold the babe in my arms. Hurry, Matt, I murmur, but I don't know if he can hear me. _

"_Here, sweetheart," he says at last, wrapping the delicate, mewling, impossibly tiny thing in a soft towel and laying it on my chest. His voice is shaking and so are the calloused, cowboy's hands tending our baby. "You did it. Your daughter, Mrs. Dillon."_

_Hot tears drip from the corners of my burning eyes the instant I see her. Amy-Claire, I whisper into her tiny shell-like ear. He kisses us both, once, twice and again. We stare at her in wonder as she clenches her fists, turns her head, purses her rosebud lips and frowns. Suddenly, I realize what she needs. I tug at my nightgown, and Matt helps me hold our baby to my breast until she discovers what to do and is suckling greedily. _

_Matt's eyes widen as he watches us together. "My girls," he murmurs earnestly with a little hitch in his voice. _

_I can't help myself-I am still crying. I have wanted this for so long. This young Matt Dillon can't possibly understand the overwhelming need I have for this child, the need he has fulfilled in me. I love him and this baby so much. I've never been happier in my life. _

_Matt slides into bed beside me, wrapping his strong arm around me, gently wiping my tears away with his fingertips. He cups his huge hand around our tiny baby's head, already covered in soft, black, downy hair, and the sight makes my heart swell to bursting in my chest. I think I might start crying all over again. Matt whispers in my ear quietly, proudly, "Amy-Claire Dillon" and I think those are the sweetest words I've ever heard in my entire life._

tbc

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	14. Chapter 14

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 14

"Family"

The fireplace crackled and a comforting blanket of warmth radiated over Kitty Russell Dillon as she gently rocked, eyes closed, holding three-month-old Amy-Claire to her breast. The child was nearly asleep, her round belly almost full, the smacking sounds of her little mouth becoming intermittent as she drifted off while having her breakfast. Daisy lay on the hearth, groaning happily as she rolled to her side, her tail thumping once on the floor as she glanced up at Kitty.

Kitty was sleepy, too. Matt had woken her early in the generous suite of rooms Mr. Blessing had built for her family adjoining the ranch house immediately after Amy-Claire's birth. The old rancher had refused to take "no" for an answer following the Indian attack—he wanted Kitty and that little baby safe from harm, by jing!

That fateful morning, Matt had gently carried Kitty and the tiny, mewling infant and placed them in the bed of a wagon cushioned with comfortable blankets. Daisy lay next to her, her chin resting on Kitty's thigh. Mr. Blessing, Judge Nation and their small makeshift army had ridden alongside with Freeman at the reins and Matt riding in back with Kitty cradling her newborn. Everyone kept a wary eye open, scanning the horizon apprehensively, guns at the ready, until they delivered their precious cargo safely back to the ranch.

It hadn't been easy living crowded into the ranch house at first. Kitty had always loved having Matt all to herself out in the relative seclusion of their little cabin. But at the house, they'd bunked in the small front bedroom with the baby, and it was nigh impossible finding time to be alone together. Truth be told, those first months were downright exhausting. Baby Amy-Claire had to be breast-fed every two to three hours, and Kitty was so sleep-starved she didn't know if she were coming or going most days. Matt was awfully considerate—he'd always make a valiant attempt at staying awake with her at night while she nursed the baby sitting propped up in bed. But he worked mighty long days on the ranch. Pretty soon, her hard-working cowboy had drifted off again, snoring softly, with his mussed, dark curls pillowed on her shoulder.

Thankfully, Mr. Blessing was such a kind, thoughtful man. In a few weeks' time, he had built them a connecting suite of rooms onto the back of the house—two bedrooms, a private sitting room and a small but serviceable washroom. Daily during the construction, Kitty protested that he didn't have to do such a thing, didn't have to spend so much money on them. But she always softened her protests by giving him a hug tight enough to make the old man grunt, kissing both his scruffy cheeks until he laughed out loud. Kitty didn't know what she'd done to deserve this life she was living now, but she surely to goodness didn't take it for granted.

It had certainly made things so much easier when they'd finally moved into their new rooms. Oh, the sheer unadulterated luxury of privacy! Her very own washroom! With a bathtub! She'd not had a proper bath in a big tub since she'd left Dodge City.

Matt hadn't quite understood her excitement about the tub, but then she invited him to join her one evening and at last he caught on to the general idea. Steaming hot, rippling water and scented oils soothing the senses, bodies slickly sliding against one another, slippery smooth skin on skin...it was an overwhelmingly sensual experience for her rough and tumble cowboy. Kitty didn't think she'd have any trouble a'tall luring him back into her big bathtub in the near future.

But now she was nodding off with Amy-Claire in the rocking chair, thinking of Matt's early morning wake up call, how he had nuzzled her ear and neck with kisses and slowly stroked her hip. When the baby had been smaller, he'd never have dared to wake her like that. Only now that Amy-Claire was older and finally sleeping through the night, Kitty actually had enough energy to make love again. Matt was highly pleased with this recent turn of events.

"Mornin', Cowboy," she had murmured to him in her sleep-scratchy voice, turning to greet him properly with a kiss, sliding her arms around his neck. He'd hummed in appreciation, pressing his hard, muscled body against hers. She responded instinctively by wrapping her legs around his waist as they kissed and then kissed more deeply again.

Matt came up for air, breathing raggedly, and rolled onto his back. He tugged at the hem of Kitty's nightgown and urged her to straddle him. "Take this off. I wanna see you, honey." She crossed her arms and pulled the plain, white cotton garment over her head unashamedly, and his hooded blue eyes raked over her nakedness, taking in the changes motherhood had brought to her body. He admired her swollen breasts, rounded belly, wider, more womanly hips. The sight made his mouth go dry—she was simply all softness and curves and pure loveliness that took a man's breath away. Her long, copper red hair was wound in a thick braid over one shoulder and her sapphire eyes bore heatedly into his as she reached down and took him in her hand.

The sensation of their union was so overpowering, he nearly closed his eyes, but Matt willed himself to keep them open. He needed to watch her as she moved sinuously over him, his beautiful girl who'd come out of nowhere one day like a bolt of lightning and chose him, Matt Dillon, a poor cowboy, and become his wife. He couldn't figure what he'd done to deserve her, but his heart was full to bursting with happiness that she had.

His hands were restless and greedy; he had to touch her, caress her silky, smooth white skin, sprinkled with delicate copper-colored freckles. Her supple body moved over him in a primal, hypnotic rhythm until he fervently responded with a heated cry, spilling his seed inside of her. He lay hushed and still for several long moments in a daze as Kitty covered his chest with warm kisses from her soft, sweet mouth.

Matt languidly opened one eye and gazed at her sitting atop him. He drawled, "Mrs. Dillon, seems we're not finished yet."

She gave him a lopsided little smile. Her young man had learned so much in the relatively short time they'd been married. He'd been an excellent pupil, she had to admit. Her smile grew and she remarked coyly, "We're not?"

"Nope." Matt Dillon wrapped two firm hands around his wife's voluptuous backside and urged her forward, lifting a rakish brow. "C'mere, sweetheart. Let me kiss it and make it better..."

_Oh my heavens..._ Kitty rocked her child and nearly blushed at the memory of the passionate abandon Matt had managed to elicit from her earlier that morning. She just hoped she hadn't woken anyone. Not that she could have helped herself. What that man could do to her...

Kitty looked down at little Amy-Claire, deep blue eyes drooping, tiny fingers clutching at her Mama's bosom, dark hair, showing early signs of curling just like her Papa's and sticking up every which way no matter how hard Kitty tried to comb it down. Her heart tightened in her chest just like it always did when she looked at her beautiful child, her miracle baby, the child she never thought she'd have.

The only thing that could possibly make her happier right now would be to have her Dodge friends with her—Doc, Festus, Sam and Newly. They were her family before she came here to Brushy Heap, and she missed them something fierce. A dozen times a day she thought of them, things she'd like to tell them, show them, share with them. Where were they now? Did they miss her?

But her whole life here was such a mystery to her. She was afraid to question it too much for fear it would just up and disappear. Would she end up back in Dodge City with Matt gone forever? Would she also lose her child? The thought made her shudder, and Kitty held the soft, warm, treasured bundle of life in her arms more closely.

A knock at the door startled Kitty from her brooding. She looked around and quickly grabbed a shawl, awkwardly shrugging it over her shoulders and modestly atop Amy-Claire who was still lazily finishing up her breakfast. Kitty threw open the door and there stood Henry with his knuckles poised mid-air, ready to knock again. When he spied the redhead and her obviously nursing bundle hidden beneath, he quickly averted his eyes, even shielding them with his hand, exclaiming in alarm, "O-o-oh, M-miss K-k-kitty, I am s-s-sorry! I'll come back l-l-later. I d-di-"

Using her free hand to grab him by the arm, Kitty tugged the flustered boy inside the sitting room, contending matter-of-factly, "You will do no such thing, Henry Small. What can I do for you?" She gave a quick glance down to make sure that her shawl was still in place. She reckoned poor Henry would never fully recover from a minor wardrobe slippage.

During the period of time that she and Matt had lived in the small front bedroom, Kitty had enjoyed very little privacy, especially since she needed to feed the baby a dozen times a day. She'd gotten used to making do by covering up with a shawl as a form of modesty in case a stray cowboy happened to mosey in on her. Henry, apparently, had never become accustomed to it. He was beet red now and still wouldn't look at her.

"Boss says y-you are to come eat breakfast. It's late and y-you need yer strength. Uh, Boss said that, not me, M-miss. I wouldn't order y-you around so." He stopped to nod and smile weakly and then stare down at his shuffling boots.

"Is that all?" Amy-Claire had finished her breakfast finally. Kitty lifted her from beneath the shawl, and Henry couldn't help but beam happily at the beautiful child gazing sleepily back at him. "Here," she said, smoothing a cloth diaper over Henry's shoulder. "She needs burping."

Henry was an old hand at burping, as were most of the males of the house. Diaper changing was a different matter entirely, but burping they could handle easily. Henry gently patted the baby's back while Kitty went into the next room to adjust her clothing. She called out to the boy, "Now what else does Mr. Blessing want? I don't think he sent you here just to tell me I need to eat breakfast."

"No, M-miss Kitty, you're r-right. He says the Judge needs advice about those s-s-stocks you know a lot about. The Judge says you've made Boss more m-money than G-god with 'em and now he wants in on the a-action." Henry suddenly frowned, licked two of his fingers, and smoothed Amy-Claire's wild hair. "Oh, and M-moses is havin' trouble with his chicken books. H-he says it ain't all addin' up."

Kitty emerged from the bedroom, buttoned up and ready to go. "It ain't addin' up, huh?" She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Maybe the fox has been gettin' into the henhouse, you think?"

Henry sighed, relieved to see Miss Kitty all put together again. "M-maybe."

"Can you stay here with Amy-Claire while I go take care of business for a while?"

"S-s-sure, Miss Kitty! M-me and Amy-Claire get along real f-fine!" Just then the baby released a sizeable air bubble from her belly, and Henry and Kitty grinned at each other.

Kitty winked as she backed out the door, "I think you do, Henry."

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Frank, Cletus and Lionel tipped their hats as they approached Kitty on her way to the cook shack. "Mornin', Miss Kitty," they all chorused in their lazy prairie drawl.

"Mornin', boys," she greeted them cheerily, pulling her heavy shawl more tightly around her shoulders in the chilly air.

Lionel, pausing to scratch under the rim of his hat, stated, "We missed ya' at breakfast."

"That's where I'm headed right now," Kitty explained.

Frank warned, "Coffee's strong enough to float a colt this mornin'."

She gave a snort. "That's okay. I need a stout eye opener."

Lionel asked curiously, "Where's the little corn nubbin'?"

Kitty smiled. "She's with Henry back at the house. I think she's just about ready for a nap."

"Oh," he replied, sounding a mite disappointed.

Squinting against the sun, Cletus piped up, "Moses is lookin' fer you."

"So I hear."

Frank added, "So is the Judge."

Grinning, Lionel pronounced, "Yer purty popular today, Miss Kitty."

"It would seem that way. Well, boys, I'm gonna get me some a' that strong coffee before anybody else finds me. You all better get to work. I'll see you later."

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused politely once again, tipping their hats and loping towards the barn to begin another long, honest day's work on the Sweetwater Ranch.

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Leland Blessing leaned back in his studded leather-bound chair, scrubbing his eternally whiskery chin. For several moments, he earnestly studied his old friend Judge Nation who sat across the desk from him and then sighed long and loud.

Nation blustered, "Hell's bells, Leland, you're makin' me nervous as a cat in a room full of rockin' chairs. Just spit it out, whatever you wanna say..."

"Emmett, I didn't ask you here this visit to drink whiskey and swap lies. I have an ulterior motive, I'm afraid."

"Well, tarnation, I'm surprised at you. Here I was thinking all this time you simply enjoyed my rapier sharp wit and sparkling conversation." The old man of the law sat back, stretching his legs out comfortably in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He stifled a belch courtesy of the big breakfast Freeman had cooked and then folded his arms over his belly. "Well, go on. I'm a' waitin'. I ain't a'gettin' any younger, you know."

Blessing threaded his fingers nervously through his wiry hair and then cleared his throat. "I wanna make a will." He looked at his friend and tried to gauge his reaction. "You can help me with it, cain't you?"

Nation was trying to hide his surprise. "Why... Why, sure I can! But, you're too ornery to die, you old dickens! What's got into that head of yours?"

"Oh, I'm not quite ready to pass in my chips just yet, by geeswax. But I been thinkin', Emmett." Blessing stared down at his hands in his lap, picking at a hangnail as he spoke quietly. "These young folks, they mean an awful lot to me. Matt and Kitty and that little ol' baby... What if somethin' was to happen to me? Legally, why they ain't my family. But, I want them to be took care of just like they was."

Emmett Nation spoke up, "So, you're sayin' you want to leave the ranch to them?"

Leland met his eyes, "Yep, that's the way I want it. Matt is a top-notch foreman, and he'll run this ranch when I'm gone with nary a hitch. Kitty has doubled the size of this place since she's come here. She's quite the little businesswoman, and I'd never have guessed that in a million years to look at her, purty little thing." The old rancher paused and cleared his throat. "They been good to me, Emmett. They're my family now."

Nation nodded and uttered sincerely, "I know, Leland. They're fine folks. Fine folks, indeed."

Blessing added hurriedly, "I want to provide for the boys, too." He ticked them off on his beefy fingers. "Frank, Cletus, Henry, Leland, Freeman, Moses. They've all been faithful and hard workers. I want to leave them something."

Nodding again, Nation offered softly, "I'll draw it all up for you as quickly as possible, my friend."

Leland Blessing blew out a long breath of relief through his nose, his muscles slowly relaxing.

Both men quickly glanced up at a quiet rap at the open door. It was Kitty, eyes twinkling, smiling brightly at them both. "Judge! I didn't know you were here until Henry told me just this morning!"

Blessing and Nation rose to greet her. Taking her hand, Nation announced, "Why, my dear, we were just talking about you. Leland was just telling me his plans to—"

Blessing interrupted with a spurious growl, "Oh, you old rapscallion!" He turned to Kitty. "It's his plans he's worried about. He's jealous as sin of all the money you've made me with railroad stocks, and now he wants you to help make a heap a' money for him!"

Nation shot Blessing a look and nodded, "Yes, actually, I do, Miss Kitty. I'm a shameless ol' codger and want to make all the money I can before I become food for the buzzards. You think you can assist me, my dear?"

"Buzzard food, my eye!" Kitty laughed gaily. "Well, I just managed to help Moses get his chicken business accounts straightened out, so maybe we can get a few simple little railroad investments taken care of too, don't you think?"

Blessing gallantly pulled out a chair for her. "That sounds fine, Kitty! Why don't you have a seat right here, child?"

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Blessing. Let's get down to business, shall we, gentleman?"

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Kitty headed back to her rooms, positive Henry was bored stiff with looking after a baby for two solid hours. She'd eaten a hurried breakfast of biscuits and mighty strong coffee at the kitchen table while helping Moses untangle his burgeoning poultry and egg business finances. Moses was showing great promise and enthusiasm as a young businessman, but he still needed guidance in the basics of accounting now and then. It was all too easy to lose track in those endless long, tidy columns and rows of figures. Moses was an apt pupil though, and always located his mistakes with prompting after a bit of thinking. His Pa, Freeman, beamed, listening in silence as he cleaned the breakfast dishes and scrubbed the kitchen spotless behind them.

After Moses' accounting headaches were straightened out, Kitty had gone to Mr. Blessing's office to advise the Judge on his personal investments. A body couldn't go wrong with railroad stocks, really, as long as they did their homework and only invested in reputable companies. Railroads were the transportation of the "future." Of course, she'd already lived to see the future once, so she knew what was coming and that it was a sound investment. She advised the old man what companies were the best, listened to the charming gents tell a few hair-raising tales, and then politely excused herself to get back to her child and rescue poor Henry from his babysitting duties.

Kitty opened her sitting room door quietly in case Amy-Claire was still napping and tiptoed across the floor to the baby's bedroom. The door was ajar, and she heard a voice, soft and soothing, a boy's sweet alto voice, singing—

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word,  
Henry's gonna buy you a mockingbird.

If that mockingbird won't sing,  
Henry's gonna buy you a diamond ring..."

Kitty peeped inside the door and saw young Henry kneeling beside Mr. Blessing's handmade cradle, singing to her wide-eyed child, Daisy lying on the floor next to him. Amy-Claire gripped one of Henry's fingers tightly in her tiny fist as he crooned to her. Silently she worked her little rosebud mouth as if she were trying to sing with him. Then Kitty realized, Henry wasn't stuttering, not one bit.

"If that diamond ring turns brass,  
Henry's gonna buy you a looking glass."

Kitty smiled, enchanted as she watched Amy-Claire's deep blue eyes light up while she stared earnestly at him. Suddenly, Kitty realized Henry wasn't singing anymore.

"Miss K-kitty, I d-d-didn't hear you c-come in!"

"I'm sorry, Henry. I didn't mean to startle you." She entered the room and Amy-Claire instantly cooed and waved her fat little arms when she saw her Mama. Kitty picked her up and held her baby's plump, warm cheek to her own. "You have a wonderful singing voice. I didn't realize that."

"Aww..." Henry looked sheepishly down at his boots. Then he amended, "Thank you kindly, M-miss Kitty."

"You should sing more often, Henry Small."

"Yes, M-miss. Well, I th-think little Miss Amy-Claire likes to h-hear me anyways."

"I sure appreciate you looking after her for me."

"Anytime, M-m-iss Kitty. I like little ones, I d-do." He smiled shyly.

"I can see that, Henry." She unsuccessfully attempted to smooth down the baby's cowlick. "I know you need to get back to work now. You have a good day, you hear?"

Henry Small took his hat from the peg off the wall and doffed it. "Good d-day, ladies." He gave them a sparkling grin that tugged at Kitty's heart.

Amy-Claire squeezed her little pink fist in an approximation of a goodbye wave to her friend Henry. Kitty smiled broadly, thinking, _will wonders never cease? _

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It was very near suppertime, and Matt Dillon headed back to the ranch house to find Kitty. Bone-weary, his booted feet scuff-clicked across the wooden floor towards their rooms, not another soul in sight. He figured Mr. Blessing and the Judge were already at the cook shack, drinking a hot cup of coffee and jawing with Freeman while he finished cooking up the evening meal. Matt heard tell they were having Mr. Blessing's favorite tonight, country ham and mashed potatoes. The very thought made his stomach rumble in anticipation.

He opened the door to his sitting room—no Kitty-but he detected splashing and singing and giggles from the direction of the tiny washroom. Matt hung his dusty Stetson from a peg on the wall and strode straight for the room where his little family was. Cracking the door open, he stuck his head in, grinning ear-to-ear at the sight of Kitty sitting in the big tub with Amy-Claire in her arms. All thoughts of how worn out he'd been flew right out of his head with that sweet picture before him. "There's my girls!" he exclaimed happily.

Amy-Claire immediately squealed, kicking her fat legs and waving her arms excitedly at the sight of her Papa. "Matt!" Kitty laughed over the sound of her jabbering infant, attempting to hold more tightly to her wet, slippery, wriggling little body. "We were just getting cleaned up a bit before suppertime." Kitty raked the baby's thick, wet, dark curls off her forehead. Bathtime was the only time Amy-Claire's hair ever behaved. Kitty would be glad when it grew long enough so that she could comb it into submission.

Matt knelt down next to the tub, kissing both his dripping girls noisily on their flushed cheeks. Matt drawled mischievously, "Aw, you two are perty enough already. I don't think I could stand it if you were any pertier!"

Kitty snorted at his compliment, but then her handsome husband leaned close and threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck, kissing her lips warmly, lovingly, humming against her damp flesh...until they each felt tiny, inquisitive fingers touching, little hands patting at their faces. They broke apart, glancing down with a chuckle into impossibly large, deep blue eyes the color of a still lake in summertime.

Matt growled at his tiny daughter, "And what do you want, lil' gal?" He wriggled his long, calloused fingers and gently tickled her fat little belly until she splashed bathwater everywhere and sent silvery peals of beautiful baby laughter right through Kitty's heart.

It was moments like these that made Kitty plumb weak with pure happiness and blessed peace of mind. As she gazed at her husband and infant daughter playing together, she knew for certain that she was right where she belonged. In this time and in this place with Matt Dillon-making a family and a proper home for themselves, free of strife and pain. Their life here was truly meant to be.

tbc

Author's Note: I have picked up a new editor-in-chief along the Growing Old path. BigMommaT/Teri/TBone has turned out to have eagle eyes that catch *all* my editorial mistakes, and I greatly appreciate the help as I read over these chapters dozens of times during the revision process and often cannot see the trees for the forest, if that makes any sense. TBone has been a huge supporter and humorous review writer extraordinaire who very sweetly points out my goofs in private (I've gone back and fixed them, thanks!) and I hope she'll keep me on the right track from now on. I guess that's what I get for penning fics that have become WAY too complicated!

I just want to say thanks, readers, one more time for the overwhelming support and encouragement you've shown for this fic. I'll catch up on my PM's soon. I've got some volunteer work to do this weekend plus the Easter Bunny is coming to town, but then things should slow down again soon. xoxo

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	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: I had to use some major computer voodoo to get this chapter posted today. This site is not uploading for me, so I did an end-run around it. It may be mislabeled, but this is, indeed, Ch. 15. I hope you like our girl, Amy-Claire. xoxo

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 15

"Amy-Claire"

"Papa! Papa! Papa!" A tiny little girl, long, dark curls bouncing, scurried across the yard after her father just as fast as her Justin-booted feet would carry her, faithful dog Daisy at her heels. Matt Dillon was already at the corral gate when Amy-Claire caught up with him at full steam, throwing herself into his arms as he turned and stooped.

He grunted out a laugh, exclaiming, "Whoa there, Sassafras! What's the all-fired hurry?" He straightened her miniature Stetson, which was still a mite too big for her three-year-old head while Daisy sat at attention at Matt's feet.

"Papa, take me wif you! I wanna go wif you today!" Her expressive blue eyes opened wide, and her dark, sculpted brows rose imploringly.

"Sass, Papa's got to ride a long way today, to another ranch for some cattle your Mama bought." Matt smoothed Amy-Claire's long, shining curls admiringly beneath his palms. His little girl was such a beauty, the very sight of her made his chest ache.

"Papa, I can wide wif you! Me and Bella can come!" She placed her small hands beseechingly on Matt's cheeks, and his heart just melted into a warm puddle. She piped up helpfully, "I'se a big girl now!"

"Amy-Claire, Bella's short pony legs can't keep up with all the other horses. She'd fall behind and then what?" He chucked her gently under her tiny chin.

Matt's heart began to sink when that cupid's bow bottom lip began to tremble and her big ol' blue eyes filled with tears. She slipped her little arms around his neck and begged, "Please, Papa, take me wif you. Me and Bella, we can keep up, I pwomise."

"Oh, sweetheart, I wish I could take you, but I can't." He rubbed her small back and sighed in relief when he saw Kitty hurrying out the ranch house door and down the front porch steps towards them.

"There's my slippery little girl!" Kitty panted, tucking her long hair, still unbound, behind her ears. "She got away from me again."

Matt comforted his daughter, "I tell you what. You and me will go riding tomorrow, okay?"

The child wailed against his shirt, "But I wanna go wif you today!"

Kitty and Matt exchanged knowing looks. Kitty held out her arms and peeled Amy-Claire off Matt's now damp shirt. "Come on, Sugarpie. You come with Mama, and we'll have some fun together while Papa goes to work. What would you like to do?"

Amy-Claire wailed even louder against Kitty's shoulder, "I wanna wide wif my Papa!"

Kitty shook her head, kissed Matt goodbye and turned toward the house with her crying daughter wrapped tightly around her body while Matt looked on helplessly. Kitty turned and waved him on, mouthing, "It'll be alright." Daisy wagged her tail at Matt, then turned and trotted obediently after Kitty and Amy-Claire.

Kitty exclaimed brightly to Amy-Claire, "How would you like to go and make some cookies right now?"

Matt took off his hat and whacked it for good measure on his pants leg, blowing out a big breath. He turned his head just in time to see short, stubby fingers winding through her mama's long, red hair and to hear a high-pitched voice, muffled against her mama's shoulder, repeating, "Cookies?"

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"Shhh..." Kitty warned Matt with a finger to her lips before he could clomp noisily through the front door of the ranch house. Matt had returned home with the newly purchased cattle well after lunchtime but he wanted to check on his little Sassafras to see how she was faring before having a bite to eat. Kitty made him remove his boots on the front porch, then took him by the hand into the front room where Amy-Claire sat in Leland Blessing's lap in his big leather chair. Both were blissfully snoozing, oatmeal cookie crumbs scattered on their chins and bellies, a book of Shakespeare open on Blessing's knee. Kitty tiptoed and whispered in Matt's ear, "He's been reading _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ to her again."

Matt scratched his jaw in pure bewilderment that his child could make heads or tails of all those _thee's_ and _thou's_. "That's her favorite all right." He'd forgotten to whisper.

"Shh..." Kitty's brows knit together in consternation, but it was too late.

Blessing jerked in his seat. "I'm awake!" The book fell to the floor and Amy-Claire whined in protest, rubbing her eyes with her fists.

Kitty pursed her lips, groaning. "You did it now, Papa."

Matt slunk over to hang his hat on a peg, murmuring, "Sorry, honey."

"You know she doesn't like to be woken until she gets her nap out." Kitty lifted a brow.

"I know, I know." He sidled up next to his beautiful red-headed bride. "Kinda takes after her Mama..." He kissed her on the head, looking down at her apologetically, then turned to the chair where Leland was comforting his miniature siesta companion.

"Hey there, little Sassafras, Papa's home!" Matt exclaimed brightly, hoping to jostle her out of her sleepy funk. "How 'bout you and me go for a ride after I get some vittles in my belly?"

Amy-Claire had obstinately hidden her face in Leland's neck, but she slowly peeped over his shoulder. Matt noticed that bottom lip poking out again. _Uh-oh._

"Gwan'pap Blessing took me widing." Then she promptly buried her face in Leland's shirt again.

Placing his hands on his hips, he turned to Kitty, who shrugged silently and raised her brows, as if saying, _I don't know where her temper comes from. Maybe she'll outgrow it._

Matt's voice took on a nonchalant tone as he strolled around the room in his sock feet, pretending to examine the books on the shelves. "Oh, well in that case, Miss Amy-Claire Dillon, I guess you won't want to go riding down to the creek with me and Mama tomorrow."

Matt stopped for effect and two deep blue eyes peeked over Leland's shoulder. He added, "And maybe we could ask some other folks to come with us and make it a _picnic_."

Amy-Claire's voice was muffled against Leland's shirt. "Can Gwan'pap come?"

Kitty smothered a grin. "Only if he brings the food."

Amy-Claire turned to him solemnly, "Will you bwing the food, please, Gwan'pap? I like chicken."

Blessing threw his head back. "You gotta bring yer oatmeal cookies, too! Those were mighty fine, youngun'."

Kitty smiled. "Well, we might hafta make some more of those. They'll probably all be gone come tomorrow."

Amy-Claire looked at her Papa hopefully. "Can Daisy come wif us?"

Chin in hand, Matt looked thoughtful and answered cryptically in a deep voice, "Maybe."

Her eyes got bigger. "Can the boys come wif us, too? I want Henwy to play his hah-monka." She raised those beseeching black brows.

Matt narrowed his eyes at her and answered again, "Maybe."

Amy-Claire slid out of Blessing's lap and walked over to her Papa. She reached as high as she could and tugged on his pants leg. He looked casually down at his tiny girl, drawling, "Yep?"

"I will be awful, awful good if you take us on a picnic, Papa." She turned to look at Kitty. "Won't I, Mama?"

Kitty had to screw up her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. "Oh... Yeah, Papa... You can bet on it." Oh, her little girl knew how to play her cards right already and steal men's hearts to boot.

Matt cast a knowing eye down at his little Sassafras and said, "Oh, alright, you talked me into it."

Amy-Claire let out a high-pitched squeal and threw herself into her Papa's arms. He twirled her around in a circle until she erupted in peals of laughter. Kitty and Mr. Blessing chuckled along with them until Matt released her and she skipped around the room, dark curls bobbing up and down, chanting in a sing-song voice, "Pic-nic! Pic-nic! Pic-nic!"

Matt teased her, "Hey, Miss Sassy Britches, you better calm down now. You gotta go ask Mr. Freeman real nice to pack us a lunch for tomorrow."

The little girl looked puzzled. "Papa, why you call me that?" She lifted her skirts to show them underneath. "I ain't got no britches on. I gots ruffle drawers on!"

Matt and Leland exploded in laughter, and Kitty rolled her eyes at them. "Matt..." she sighed, chuffing out a laugh in spite of herself. Kitty picked up her little girl and kissed her soundly on her pink cheek. "Tell Papa and Gran'pap bye for now. Me and my sugarpie here are gonna go tell Mr. Freeman we need some fried chicken for tomorrow. Right, Sugarpie?"

"Wight!" She gave a sparkling grin and blew a kiss at the two men. They both pretended to catch it and hold it to their hearts. It never failed to amaze Kitty when those two rough cowboys participated in that little ritual. She never in a million years thought she'd see Matthew Dillon act a sweet fool, but he sure did for his charming little daughter. She smiled lovingly at both of them, then turned to the door, while her sugarpie tugged at her dress hem and asked again, "Don't I gots on ruffle drawers, Mama?"

Matt got tickled all over again when he saw his wife cast a wicked glance his way and whisper to their baby girl, "Amy-Claire, ladies should keep their dresses down and not show their ruffle drawers to gentlemen, you hear?"

Blue eyes got big as Amy-Claire sucked in a breath. "But..."

Kitty looked at her daughter silently, an auburn brow rising oh so slightly.

Amy-Claire sighed obediently, "Yes, Mama..."

tbc

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	16. Chapter 16

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 16

"Man of the Family"

Matt blew out the lamp and snuggled up next to Kitty in the bed. "You asleep?" he whispered in her ear.

"Not anymore," she hoarsely murmured, opening her eyes and turning to smile sleepily at him. Her hair was woven in a long, loose braid over one shoulder, soft curls already escaping around her face.

"Good..." His teeth shone white in the firelight, and she could detect the scent of fresh, sweet hay clinging to his skin since he'd pitched plenty into the horses' stalls before he'd come to bed.

A lock of hair fell over his forehead as he hovered over her, but it was that charming, boyish grin of his that never failed to do her in. She laced her fingers behind his neck and drew his mouth to hers, drinking him in slowly while his big, familiar, gentle hands explored her body, sliding beneath her white cotton nightgown, touching her in all the places he knew she liked to be touched. "Oh, Matt..." she sighed, surrendering wholly to his ministrations.

"You're so beautiful, honey," he breathed against her skin. "Do you like it when I touch you right h-?"

A tiny, tremulous form beside the bed cried, "Maaa-maaaa!"

Kitty and Matt both sat up like a shot. "Jimminy!" Kitty exclaimed, hand clutching her throat.

Recovering her senses quickly, she swung her legs from under the covers and wrapped her arms around the toddler sobbing beside her. "What's the matter, Matty boy?" Kitty stood, scooping him into her arms and bouncing him. She gently rubbed the boy's back through his cotton nightshirt as his sobs calmed to soft hiccups, kissing his tousled brown curls. "Shhhh..." she soothed over and over.

Matt fell back against the pillows in utter disappointment. "How the heck did he get out of his crib again? Matty, son, you're a monkey."

"Oh, Matt. You oughta be ashamed. He's just going through a stage is all-night terrors." She paced back and forth beside the bed as the tiny child rubbed his face tiredly on his Mama's soft chest. She patted his bottom comfortingly, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips menacingly at her husband.

"I know." Matt sounded properly chagrined. "C'mere." He patted the bed and beckoned to them. Kitty sat down next to him with their small son in her lap and Matt enveloped them both in his arms. He raked the boy's heavy locks out of his pale blue eyes and kissed his small, perspiring forehead three times for good measure. "There now. You feelin' better, Little Man?"

Kitty wiped the boy's tear-stained, flushed face with her nightgown sleeve. He peered up at his Mama quietly and then at his Papa, hiccupped once, then nodded silently.

Kitty kissed her child on the cheek and reassured him, "Mama loves you dearly. There's nothin' to fear. You know that? Papa loves you, too."

Matty looked at his Mama again and then at his big Papa who lay propped up on one elbow nestled against his Mama's lap. Matt nodded in affirmation. "Yep. Mama's right. We love you. There's nothin' a'tall to fear. Mama and Papa are here to take care of you. We won't ever let anything happen to you."

Kitty combed Matty's sweat-dampened curls with her fingers. "See, Little Man? There's nothin' to be afraid of. Your Papa and I will always take care of you."

The child appeared calm and had stopped his crying. Matt asked hopefully, "You ready to go back to bed now?"

Little Matty nodded his head earnestly. Kitty stood up and made ready to carry him to the other bedroom, but he piped up, "Papa, too!"

Kitty smiled. "Come on, Papa. Let's put our Little Man to bed."

Matt hopped out of bed and kissed the both of them on top of their heads, whispering in Kitty's ear, "And then we can get back to what we were doing before."

She tilted her eyes up at him and gave him an alluring smile. Then she gave a little start and a squeal when Matt's hand squeezed her backside.

Matty pointed a chubby little finger accusingly at his Papa and admonished in his tiny voice, "Don't you git my Mama!"

Kitty nodded her head firmly, declaring, "You tell 'im, Matty! Papa's a bad boy!"

"Papa bad boy!" Matty dissolved in delighted giggles.

Raising a dark, bushy brow, Matt puffed up his chest and pointed a finger right back at his son, deadpanning, "Yeah, well, if Papa wasn't a bad boy once in a while, you might not be here today, son."

"Oh, Matt!" Kitty exclaimed, wide-eyed. "Don't say such things."

"Heck, Kitty, he doesn't even know—"

One auburn eyebrow rose toward her hairline. "But what if he repeats-?"

"Aw, Kitty, I'm sorry." Matt quickly gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek. "I won't do it again."

Matty grinned, showing off his tiny baby teeth, and gave his Mama a slobbery kiss, too. "Papa sowwy! Won't do agin!"

Kitty cocked her red head at the both of them. "Hmph. How am I supposed to stay mad when you two handsome boys gang up on me? You wanna tell me that?"

Both dark-haired males giggled uncontrollably as they headed toward the nursery.

"Shhh!" Kitty warned. "You'll wake Sister. You know how grumpy she gets."

Matty and Matt's eyes shone brightly at each other as they put their fingers to their lips.

Matty whispered, "Gwumpy!" and Matt struggled to contain a snort of laughter.

Opening the door, Kitty gazed across the room at her sweet Amy-Claire, thankfully still peacefully sleeping with Daisy lying at the foot of her bed, watching them quietly with her muzzle resting on her front paws.

Matt and Kitty lay their youngest back in his crib, covering him with a warm quilt. They leaned over to kiss him goodnight on his pink, chubby cheeks and tiptoed back across the floor in their bare feet.

Matt closed the door to the nursery without a sound, and then turned and swept his unsuspecting wife into his arms, taking her breath clean away. "Oh!" she gasped quietly, quickly placing her hand over her mouth. All they needed was one or even two small children wide awake and in their bed again.

Matt's thumb stroked her side right below her breast through the thin cotton fabric of her nightgown. It made a delicious little shiver run right down her spine. His eyes raked languorously over her body before he finally murmured, "What's the matter, Mrs. Dillon? You afraid a' me?"

Kitty slipped her arms loosely around his neck but demurely cast her eyes down, speaking in a hushed voice, "Why, no, Mr. Dillon, but may I ask precisely what your intentions are, sir?"

He bent his head closer and whispered in her ear, his warm breath brushing the loose curls around her face, describing to her exactly what his intentions were. To her astonishment, his words made her cheeks turn pink and her face flush hot and her belly burn and pulse, oh so sweet and low. She swallowed hard and gasped the only utterance that would come out of her mouth, "Oh, Matt..." She clung to him, pressing her body closer to his. The man could still make her positively weak with need after six years of marriage. _Only six years? She'd been with him for much, much longer_, she reminded herself. _A lifetime nearly..._

Matt's lips brushed her temple as he murmured, "I think it's time I took my best girl to bed," and he carried Kitty Russell Dillon away to the blessed intimacy of their bedroom. And he made doubly certain to lock the door firmly behind him.

tbc

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	17. Chapter 17

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 17

"Determination"

Kitty and Celia frowned at the knitting in their laps as they sat on the front porch of the Sweetwater Ranch house waiting for Matt, Freddie and the children to return from their afternoon ride. Neither of them were such great shakes at knitting, but at least they could keep their families supplied in winter scarves, courtesy of Mrs. Rubottom's careful instruction. The old housekeeper had insisted that no young woman was a proper housewife unless she could knit, so both Kitty and Celia had gritted their teeth and submitted to the lessons several years back. At least it kept their hands occupied. Back at the Long Branch, Kitty used to play cards to pass the time. But she hardly thought she could get away with that unladylike pursuit here without some serious explaining on her part, she thought wryly. So knitting won out, however uneven her stitches were.

Kitty's needles clicked together as she asked, "When's your next book coming out, Celia?"

Celia was penning dime novels under a dashing, somewhat rakish pseudonym, Bartholomew Bloodgood, since the publishing world didn't cotton too much to female authors. She was writing those same penny dreadfuls that had first brought her and husband Freddie together at the dime novel counter of Harrod's Beaver Township Emporium years earlier. Celia's own serial was entitled _Tales of Thrilling Western Adventure _and Kitty never missed an installment. Amy-Claire and Matty always sat in Kitty's lap as she read aloud the amazing exploits of sharp-shooting, frontier girl Beckie Kidd and her faithful equine companion Ghost. Wide-eyed and gasping, they reread each copy until the pages were dog-eared and the covers falling off. Little Matty would say, "I wanna be just like Beckie when I gwow up!"

And Amy-Claire would giggle and retort, "But you're a boy, goose!"

Then Kitty would intervene in their childish bickering and read another chapter to get them to hush. Kitty smiled because she enjoyed reading about Celia's heroine as much as her children. Only Celia would conjure up her own female Western hero, she realized with great satisfaction.

"The latest installment should be out real soon." Celia shoved her spectacles up on her nose, dropping her knitting in her lap. Her cheek dimpled as she grinned. "I just have to pinch myself every time I think of it, Kitty, don't you? I never dreamed I could be a real, published writer!"

Kitty beamed at her closest friend. "I'm so proud of you, Celia! I knew you could do it. And Amy-Claire and Matty are in awe of their Auntie Celia. They beg me to go to the Emporium every time I'm in town to check for the latest copy."

Celia dimpled again. "I love them so! You have the sweetest children, Kitty. They certainly inherited your charm and good looks." She stopped and tapped her temple with her index finger. "And let's not forget your intelligence!"

Kitty frowned and spoke in a dry tone, "Thank you kindly, Celia, but let's not forget the stubbornness either."

Celia chuckled. "You say that as though it's a bad thing."

"I know," Kitty sighed resignedly. "They get it from me, I guess."

This time Celia threw her head back and laughed. She'd seen her friend negotiate business transactions for the Sweetwater Ranch on multiple occasions. Kitty Russell Dillon could sweet talk with the best of them, and in the end she got her way. Stubborn determination was her middle name.

"Yeah, well maybe I don't want Amy-Claire taking after me so much anymore. She doesn't need to always get her way, you know."

Celia detected a note of seriousness in Kitty's voice. Celia's expression sobered. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that Amy-Claire has announced that she wants to become a doctor of veterinary medicine!" Kitty bit her bottom lip and looked down at her lap.

"Well... that's not so bad, is it?" Celia had watched Amy-Claire Dillon blossom from a beautiful baby into a loving child who adored her Mama and Papa. But she was also a highly intelligent and animated young girl who spent long hours riding the ranch with her Papa and the other hands, tending to the stock, learning everything she could about the horses and cattle, their ailments and how to treat them. They all thought she'd run her own ranch one day. But an animal doctor? That was an unexpected turn of events.

Kitty was still concentrating studiously on her knitting and wouldn't look up at Celia.

"Kitty, if you're worried about her because she'd be a woman in a man's world, well, she's every bit as smart as a man! And she could take care of herself!" Celia's brow suddenly wrinkled in consternation. The dark-haired young woman jammed her fists onto her hips. "Besides, she's only nine, Kitty! What are you worrying for? She's liable to change her mind next week!"

Kitty's voice wavered. "Celia, you know Amy-Claire! This is not just a notion she's suddenly come up with. Her Gran'pap has already looked into it for her and has volunteered to pay the tuition. And the school is all the way in New York!" Kitty had to look up at the porch ceiling to keep the tears from spilling from her eyes. "Celia, what am I going to do?"

Celia reached over and patted her friend's knee. "Oh, Kitty, that's such a long, long way into the future. Maybe she'll change her mind. But I know how hard it is for you to even contemplate doing without your sweet girl for that long." Celia reached out her arms and hugged Kitty's neck. Yes, Amy-Claire was only nine, but Jimminy, she was the most determined child. She was true to her word and stubborn to boot. She probably _would_ go to that school in New York and become a doctor of veterinary medicine. Goodness gracious sakes alive. Poor Kitty would be lost with Amy-Claire so far away.

Celia murmured in Kitty's ear, "Speak of the devil..." Shading their eyes against the sun, they peered across the pasture at a group of riders approaching—two tall, broad-shouldered husbands and several assorted children of various sizes. Four-year-old Matty rode with his Papa, and Amy-Claire sat astride her horse Lolly. Freddie and his brood of four rode behind, every last one of them boys ranging from the age of nine on down. Kitty dashed at her damp eyes with her sleeve hem and they both stood, waiting for their families to return from the barn. She saw some of the new cowhands they'd recently hired emerge to take the horses, and the children took off running for the front porch.

They were all out of breath and grinning eagerly, especially Amy-Claire. Matty was the first to burst out, "Mama, we watched a calf bein' born! A real, live calf! An' guess what?" The boy's blue eyes were big as saucers and he threw his short arms wide in wonder. "Amy-Claire birfed it! She pulled it right out!"

Freddie and Matt had finally caught up with the children. Matt had a big smile on his face and he proudly patted his daughter on the back. He declared, "I couldn'ta' done any better myself!"

Amy-Claire beamed at her Papa's praise and the children began chattering excitedly all at once.

That's when Kitty noticed it. Amy-Claire's beautiful new dress was ruined. Kitty had special ordered it all the way from St. Louis. And now it was bloody and muddy and...ruined.

Kitty's face fell. "Amy-Claire Dillon, look at you! Your dress, it's ruined!"

Amy-Claire looked down as if noticing for the first time that her dress was filthy.

So did Matt. "Oh, honey. I'm sorry. We didn't mean to..."

Kitty held a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. She felt an enormous headache coming on. "Matt, you were just supposed to take the children for a ride, not deliver a baby!"

"Yeah, but we came across a mother who was in trouble." Matt removed his hat and raked a hand through his hair. "She needed some extra help..."

Kitty's tone was incredulous. "And you let a nine-year-old do it in her best dress?"

Matt tried to explain, "Aw, honey, you know how much she loves to care for animals! I forgot about..."

Celia suddenly spoke up brightly, "Amy-Claire, sweetie, come let's get you cleaned up. Freddie, you take the boys out back to play." She held out her hand, whispering to the bewildered girl as she led her into the house, "Mama's not mad at you, honey. She's just been upset today about some other things. Let's you and me go talk..."

Freddie started to herd his little group of boys, "Come on, men, let's go see if we can find some trouble to get into out back. Maybe Gran'pap Blessing will help us find some proper mayhem to stir up before supper."

Mattie piped up, "I'se thirsty, Uncle Freddie!"

Freddie offered, "Well, we'll head to the water pump first, how's that?" He hefted Mattie on his shoulders, glanced back and gave a wave to Matt and Kitty, calling out, "Take all the time you need, you hear?"

When they were alone, Matt picked up quietly where he had left off, "I'm sorry, honey. I never even thought about the dress. Amy-Claire was just so excited about the calf being born and being able to help it, she was beside herself. You should have seen the look in her eyes, Kitty."

The look in Matt's eyes, talking about the passion in their child's heart, was Kitty's undoing, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. Matt took his wife's hand then and led her into the house, through the sitting room and into their bedroom so they could talk privately. He sat down beside her on the bed and pulled out a clean hankie from his pocket, wiping away her tears. Bending his head down to look her in the eyes, he murmured, "Now, I don't think all these tears are over a ruined dress, are they?"

Her breath hitched in her chest and she glanced at him accusingly, "How would you know?"

Matt removed his hat and pitched it on the bedpost. "Cause I know you, honey. What's eatin' you?"

"What's eating me?" Kitty held her hand dramatically to her heart. "My baby's leavin' me and goin' all the way to New York City to be a cow doctor!" She poked him in the chest. "And you approve! How could you do that to me, Matt Dillon?" The hot tears flowed down her cheeks again and Matt encircled her in his arms, patting her on the back until her breathing had evened and she was all cried out.

His voice was low and comforting. "There, now, honey. Our little Sassafras is not goin' anywhere! She's just a little girl. She's gonna take a lot of raisin' from her Mama before she sets foot off this ranch. Besides, don't you think she'll be the finest cow doctor this side of the Mississippi?"

Kitty chuffed out a laugh in spite of herself. "Oh, you! You're makin' fun!" She snatched the hankie from Matt's hand and blew her nose, then lay her fevered face against his shirt front. "She's awful smart, isn't she, Matt?"

"Yep." Matt kissed her forehead. "She gets that from her Mama."

She snorted. "Flatterer..." Kitty tilted her head back and smiled. "Kiss me, Cowboy."

And he obliged her gladly.

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After Kitty had sufficiently recovered from her emotional outburst, she walked straight to the nursery and thanked Celia kindly for helping Amy-Claire to get cleaned up. Then she asked Amy-Claire if they could talk for a moment.

"Yes, Mama," Amy-Claire answered quietly. Celia Fiore smiled warmly at her dearest friend and squeezed Kitty's hand before she excused herself from the room.

Kitty sat on Amy-Claire's bed and propped herself against the headboard with pillows, just like they always did when she read bedtimes stories, then patted the spot beside her. "Come sit with me, Sugarpie."

Amy-Claire's large, deep blue eyes that always reminded Kitty of the color of a lake in summertime opened wide, and the little girl asked, "But aren't you mad at me, Mama?"

Kitty had to swallow hard not to burst into tears right then and there. "No, I'm not mad at you, my sweet girl. I'm very sorry I made you feel that way. Come sit with me, please."

And Kitty gathered her bright, beautiful daughter into her arms and told her how very proud she was of her first successful birthing venture, but she really hoped that on future occasions that Amy-Claire would be more careful with her expensive frocks when tending livestock. Mother and daughter giggled at the ludicrousness that image brought to mind. Then Kitty touched the tip of her little girl's nose and raised a brow. "I think you need to stick with wearing your sassy britches from now on when you're tending your critters, don't you, young lady?"

Matt tapped at the door and walked in just then as Amy-Claire dissolved into helpless gales of laughter. Matt scratched his cheek and remarked, "I don't know what you said to her, but it must have been somethin' good." He grinned from ear to ear. "Gran'pap Blessing said to go fetch my two best girls and bring them to supper. You up for it?"

"Yes!" shouted Amy-Claire, springing out of bed.

"What about you, Mrs. Dillon?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she answered as she held out a hand for Matt to help her up.

Matt held out two arms, one for each of his girls to take. "I hope you're hungry. Freeman cooked enough for an army."

Kitty cast him a glance. "Well, with the Fiores here for supper, I think we almost qualify as an army. Now, Amy-Claire, don't you repeat that to your Aunt Celia either."

"I won't, Mama..."

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With a relieved sigh, Matt and Kitty had just gotten both their tired children into bed and closed their own bedroom door behind them. It had been an eventful day.

Kitty tiptoed, wrapping her arms around her tall husband's neck and pressing her lithe body against his. She breathed, "I've been waiting for this all day, Matt Dillon."

He raised a dark brow. "You have, have you?"

"Mm-hmm... Is that door locked?"

"Uh..." He cast a quick glance behind him and fiddled with the key. "It is now." Matt smiled broadly and asked, "Now what can I do for you, little lady?"

She gave him a sultry look and climbed nimbly into his arms, wrapping her legs around his slim waist, nipping at his neck with her teeth.

He began to murmur, "Oh my sweet girl..." but her soft mouth against his stopped him. She kissed him insistently, deeply, until her crimson lips were damp and swollen, and then she whispered in his ear- she told him what she wanted, what she needed...

Matt Dillon carried his wife to the bed, lay her down, raised her skirts and petticoats and slipped down her lacy pantaloons. Kitty lay breathlessly, arched her back, clutched at the quilts in anticipation...

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Matt held Kitty in his arms, caressed one smooth, flushed cheek with the back of his finger. It never failed to amaze him how very soft and silky her skin was.

A small, uncertain voice beside him said, "Matt, I have something to tell you."

He gave her a charming, lopsided smile. "I think I know already."

She tilted her head back to look at him skeptically. "How could you know what I'm about to tell you?"

Matt kissed her forehead and gazed into her eyes. "You're gonna have a baby."

Kitty raised up on one elbow, mouth open. "Matt Dillon, how could you possibly know that?"

Matt placed a gentle finger under her chin. "Honey, you're as ripe as a peach from one end to the other." He raised an eyebrow for emphasis. "And I've been through this with you twice before so I'm gettin' pretty good at spottin' the symptoms." He winked at her. "Little wildcat."

She whacked him on the arm and accused, "Is that what this was? You wanted to examine me?"

He chuffed out a laugh. "No, honey, I wanted to take a bite a' my sweet peach." Then he took a long, sweet drink from her lips to prove his point.

"Oh, my..." she breathed. Then softly, "Matt?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Are you happy?"

He hovered near her lips, close enough that they were sharing breath, and stated simply and earnestly, "I told you when I asked you to marry me that I wanted you to have my babies, Kitty Russell Dillon, and I meant it. I am very happy. Now are you gonna kiss me again or not?"

tbc

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	18. Chapter 18

_This is the final chapter- a very simple, quiet ending. Nothing fancy. I hope you enjoy it. xoxo, lj_

Growing Old With Kitty 3

by Lilyjack

Chapter 18

"Dodge"

Damnation, Kitty hated stagecoaches! She sat next to Matt, bouncing along the rutted road, dust flying in through the windows, her backside _killing_ her. And if riding in the jolting contraption wasn't enough, her stomach was in knots. Kitty was completely beside herself with wonder and worry at what she would find in Dodge City, Kansas, when they at last reached their destination. It would be almost the same exact year in which she had "left" Dodge and arrived, through some mystery she still did not understand one whit, in Brushy Heap as a much younger woman, a girl in fact.

Would she find her "old" Matt Dillon still the marshal of Dodge City? Or, heaven forbid, would she meet up face to face with her own former self still running the Long Branch? Chariots a' fire! The thought made her head hurt to contemplate... She shivered with anxiety, and Matt put his arm around his wife and pulled her closer.

"You okay, honey?" he asked.

She gave a shuddering sigh and squeezed his hand, and he squeezed right back. His huge hand swallowed her relatively small one and it always comforted her so. She fibbed, "I'm fine, Matt. I guess I'm just a little worried about meeting these future in-laws of our daughter's."

Kitty's darling Amy-Claire was engaged to a fellow veterinary student at New York University. She and Matt and the boy's parents had talked their headstrong children into waiting to be married until they'd graduated, thankfully. But in the meantime young Eli's parents had invited them to visit their ranch right outside of Dodge City, an irony of fate that was not lost on Kitty, not one iota. Enormous butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach from the moment Matt had accepted the invitation.

"Don't you think it's a little early to be meeting up with the boy's parents?" Kitty had suggested. "What if they break off the engagement? They're still so young, Matt. Anything could happen."

"Young?" Matt had gazed at her askance. "Honey, she's older than you were when you got hitched up with me!"

"But that's different!" Kitty protested, hands on hips, but Matt just shook his head at her. Kitty knew she'd lost that battle. Matt had remained firm. He wanted to meet the family of the young man his little girl was keeping company with, by golly. Kitty grudgingly agreed, but the thought of traveling through Dodge and all that she had left behind, possibly even _herself_, was a formidable prospect, indeed.

Amy-Claire, jostled around on the rattling, thumping stagecoach bench directly across from them protested, "Oh, Mama, it'll be just fine, you'll see! The Kiplings are nice folks, I'm sure. Why, Eli is the sweetest, nicest boy in the whole world!" Amy-Claire's pretty face flushed pink. "Why, he wants to marry me, Mama!"

Fifteen-year-old Matty, tugging at his tight collar with an index finger, rolled his eyes. "Oh, please spare us all that love talk, Amy-Claire!" Matty's voice rose and fell and cracked as he spoke. His body may have been struggling to become a man, but his heart was still firmly planted in boyhood. He made a gagging expression and giggled, glancing beside him at his younger sister, Juliet Kathleen Dillon, aged ten and still the tender baby of the Dillon family.

Juliet's soft blue eyes beamed up at her big brother, whom she adored with all her heart because he was so funny and outgoing and spirited. Juliet herself was a quiet, introspective child, who mostly kept to herself, her books and her drawings. She spent a lot of her spare time with her Gran'pap Blessing, who'd read the contents of most of his library to her over the years, and she spent many hours down by the creek daydreaming about brave knights, clever heroines, daring adventures and breath-taking rescues. Mama always said Juliet's head was full of fairy dust and moonbeams, and she was just liable to take after her Auntie Celia one of these days and become an author. But Juliet had another passion. She loved to draw. The little girl with the long, shiny brown hair was never seen without her sketchpad and pencil, drawing birds and flowers, horses and baby calves, and Juliet held it tightly in her lap now as they bumped over punishing ruts in the road.

Amy-Claire's dark curls bobbed as she held her chin high. "You just wait, Matty Junior. One of these days you'll find yourself a girl and then I won't let you live this down. You'll see. Right, Mama?"

Juliet nodded solemnly at Matty and then looked to her Mama. Mama would tell him true. Mama knew everything.

Kitty cut sly blue eyes over at Matt. "Why don't you ask your Papa?"

"Whoa!" He held up his hands, choking out a laugh. "Don't drag me into this!" Matt shot a devilish grin at his beautiful wife, slipped an arm around her waist and gave her a little tickle where he knew she would squeal.

Juliet clapped her hand over her mouth, giggling, while under her breath, Kitty muttered, "Chicken..."

Then the lumbering, lurching stagecoach pulled into Dodge, and everything else Kitty Russell Dillon was about to say flew right out of her whirling, anxious head.

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Matt returned from the stage office, shoved his Stetson back on his head and announced, "Well, believe it or not, our stage is an hour early. This must be an historic occasion! The ticket seller says the stage never gets here on time so the Kiplings may not be here to pick us up for a while." Matt widened his eyes and pressed his lips together for emphasis. "So, Dillon family, we may as well cool our heels."

Kitty was staring across the dusty street, and what she saw made her feel positively weak in the knees.

Matt and the children followed her gaze, but all they spotted was a somewhat stooped, white-haired old gentleman wearing a suitcoat and dark pants, black hat and spectacles, shuffling towards an establishment called Delmonico's. Nothing whatsoever to write home about as far as they were concerned.

Matt touched her shoulder, asking, "Are you alright, Kitty? You look pale, honey."

Kitty's eyes had filled with tears at the familiar sight of her oldest, dearest friend, and she urgently turned to her husband. "Cowboy, I... I need you to do something for me. Will you take the children down the street to Mr. Jonas's store?"

Matt's brows lifted toward his hairline. How did Kitty know there was a store here by that name? "Mr. Jonas's store?" he repeated in confusion.

She laid her hands flat on his chest. "Please, Matt, buy them candy and a sarsaparilla and whatever else they want."

Amy-Claire gasped at Kitty's outright extravagance. "Why, Mama!"

Young Matty asked hopefully, "Can I have a new slingshot?"

Amy-Claire whacked him on the arm and he shot her a dirty look.

Kitty replied, "Yes, and buy Juliet some new pencils. Matt, please..." She clasped his arm and gazed up at his puzzled face. "I just saw an old friend over there that I haven't seen in years, and I need to talk to him." She hesitated and swallowed hard. "This is important to me, Cowboy."

Thinking for just a moment, Matt placed a hand on his wife's flushed cheek and replied understandingly, "Alright, honey. We'll meet you back here, whenever you're ready." He looked around to make sure nobody was watching and kissed her softly on the lips. Then he and the children watched Kitty hurry across the street to Delmonico's.

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As fate would have it, Delmonico's was crowded, every red-checked cloth-covered table occupied, and Doctor Galen Adams sitting by himself engrossed in the newspaper. Not only did Kitty feel weak in the knees, she found it difficult to breathe. What on earth would she say to him? Would he know her? Kitty steeled her nerves and approached his table, waiting for him to look up from his paper and notice her. She needed to gauge his reaction, to see if he remembered her. She realized Doc could probably answer a lot of her questions.

The old gentleman's eyes glanced up, then down, doing a double-take at the beautiful woman standing before him. Kitty wore her loveliest emerald green velvet traveling suit and matching hat and, although a bit dusty, it showed off her blazing red hair, alabaster skin and bright blue eyes to perfection. She held her breath waiting for the next words to come out of Doc's mouth. Would he recognize her?

Doc stood, nearly overturning his cup of coffee, and removed his spectacles. He held out his hand for her to shake as she took off her gloves. "Why, hello there, Miss..." He looked down at the wedding band on her finger and his face fell slightly in obvious disappointment. "...Mrs. I'm afraid I don't know your name. Have we met before? I'm Dr. Adams."

Kitty's heart plummeted and the words she spoke next came out dull and flat. "Dillon... Mrs. Matt Dillon." She searched his rheumy eyes. Perhaps you've heard of my husband?"

Doc shook his head. "No... No, can't say I have. Here! Have a seat, Mrs. Dillon. My, you're looking peaked. Joe!" He hurriedly raised his arm to signal the waiter. "Bring Mrs. Dillon here a cup of coffee, quick! And some water!"

Kitty sat heavily and placed her hand on her forehead. She felt positively dizzy. Doc held her other hand and patted it comfortingly, just like the old days. Joe brought her coffee and she took a long draw from the cup even though it scalded her throat.

"Take it easy there, young lady. You look as though you've seen a ghost. Are you gonna be alright?"

Kitty shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry, Doc. I don't mean to be a bother to you. But it's been a long, hard day."

Doc's ears perked up at her familiar use of his name. "Say... Have we met? 'Cause I did think when I first saw you that you looked awful familiar."

Kitty's eyes lit up for just a moment. "Really?" Then she shook her head and amended, "Nah..." She sat up straight in her chair, placing her hands in her lap. "Tell me somethin', Doc. You don't ever remember anyone named Kitty Russell who owned the Long Branch Saloon, do ya?"

Doc swiped a hand over his wiry mustache thoughtfully. "Nope, can't say as I do."

"Who's the marshal of this town?" She leaned her chin on her hand and gazed at him.

"Newly. Newly O'Brien. And before that it was Thomas Turley for 'bout, oh, twenty years or so."

"Mmm-hmmm." Kitty sighed. Well, that solved one mystery. She and Matt never even existed in Dodge City after her disappearance. They'd lived their lives happily in Brushy Heap, married, raised a family, relatively free from outlaws, violence and fear. There had been a few tradeoffs, but she and Matt had been dealt the better hand this time round for sure. Kitty took a deep breath and reassured herself. That day she had walked out of Dodge City and into Brushy Heap-it had all been for the best.

Kitty Russell Dillon stood up, squared her shoulders and smiled. "Doc, I need to go now."

The old man's bushy brows rose as he stood and sputtered, "But...but you just got here, Mrs. Dillon..."

She touched his shoulder. "Please, Doc, call me 'Kitty'."

He looked confused for a moment, recalling her remark about the Long Branch owner by the same name.

She took his arm and pointed out the window across the street. "You see that lively bunch out there?"

Doc looked suitably impressed. "That your husband in the middle of all those younguns? He's a big one alright."

"You're telling me," she deadpanned. "Well, that beautiful girl, the oldest, she's my daughter Amy-Claire. And she's got her heart set on marrying her beau, Eli Kipling."

Doc exclaimed, "Eli! Well, I know him! He's from a fine Dodge family. They've got a big spread north of town."

Kitty placed her hands on her hips and nodded her head. "That's good to know. Well, if she marries him, she's liable to move up here and that means I'll be visiting Dodge City a _whole_ lot. Cause Amy-Claire is my baby girl, Doc, you understand?"

Doc nodded his head, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. "Oh! You'll want to visit your daughter often. Oh, yes, I understand, Mrs. Dillon."

"Kitty."

"I understand completely, Kitty." Doc couldn't help himself. He broke into a huge grin at the forthrightness and humor of this stunningly beautiful woman.

Kitty looked him in the eye. "So that means you and I will become good friends 'cause I'll be seeing you around town, right?"

Doc laughed out loud at her logic and nodded, pulling at his ear. "Right you are!"

She cocked her red head prettily at him. "So I'll see you later, Doc, you hear?"

"I hope so, Kitty." He took her hand, beaming at her. "I surely do hope so."

To his surprise, she kissed him warmly on the cheek before she left to rejoin her family, waving and giving him a saucy wink over her shoulder as she walked out the door. Doc had only just met her, but Kitty Russell Dillon seemed to the crusty old physician to be a most remarkable woman indeed.

End

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Come to me my sweetest friend  
Can you feel my heart again  
I'll take you back where you belong  
And this will be our favorite song  
Come to me with secrets bare  
I'll love you more so don't be scared  
When we're old and near the end  
We'll go home and start again

"_Come to Me", Goo Goo Dolls  
Magnetic, c2013  
_


End file.
